Pythia
by BeautifulWolfGirl
Summary: Sequel to Scorpia Hunting. Basically there's this new company called Pythia. Alex and Yassen are called back in by MI6 to help figure out what they're planning and maybe even destroy them. Read the introduction to get more information about it. Again, no slash. Alex and Yassen have a father/son relationship.
1. The Not-So-Amusing Amusement Park

**All right, so this is a sequel to my story Scorpia Hunting. Alex is now 16, Yassen is his father, and life is good. There's a problem, though. There is a new company, similar to Scorpia, but they are called Pythia (stupid name, I know but it was the only thing I could come up with in five seconds, and it sounds kindov like Scorpia. Yes, I am copying Anthony Horowitz with the whole name thing). Anyway, they are a terrorist group. That's all I'm giving away for now. Enjoy! Oh, and I am going to be writing in only Yassen's POV again.**

**Disclaimer: curse all the people who make me do this again! I don't own Alex Rider. I do own Pythia, because I created them!**

**Oh, and I know the first chapter title is really lengthy. I couldn't think of anything else to call it, so…enjoy!**

Chapter 1- The Not-So-Amusing Amusement Park

I see a corner coming up, and I slide sideways a little as I round it. I gain speed as I race along a flat strip of the track. Then I take a few more turns. I'm one lap away from finishing. I hear the roar of another kart in my ears. The smell of gasoline and burning rubber fills my nose. I ignore it; all my concentration focused on the finish line. I see another kart coming up beside me in my peripheral vision. I press the gas, but so does the other person. I take the next corner tightly; I feel the wheels of the car slipping on the ground. I feel the vibration of the karts engine through my whole body; a constant humming in my ears. I slowly pull ahead of the other driver. We're about 40 yards from the finish now; I'm going to beat him. He pulls up beside me; 20 yards away. He's gaining on me now. He's just barely ahead of me as we pass the finish line. We slow our karts, and we finally stop. I get out, and take off my helmet.

"Good race," I say, holding out my hand. He takes it, smiling.

"I really thought you had me there, Yassen," he comments, lifting his hand to whip some sweat off his forehead.

"That's the third time in a row you've beat me, Alex. What made you think I'd give up?" I ask him. He laughs.

It's been a whole year since I adopted him. He's 16 now; he's growing up quickly. I'm 37, but according to Alex I still look like I'm in my late 20s. That's fine by me; I don't care.

It's summer; he'll be a junior in high school next year. He's going to Brookland High again, just like when he was 14. His life is just like it was before Jack died. Every day he bikes to school, bikes home. He has homework; he hangs out with his friends…the only difference is that MI6 is no longer in either of our lives. That's in the past. Sometimes we talk about it, reliving memories about our past. Most of the time, though, we just enjoy the life we have now. He still calls me Yassen; it just seems natural to both of us. I know I'm like a father to him, but he's been calling me Yassen for such a long time; it would be a little strange if he started to call me 'dad'.

We're in an amusement park, having fun. It's about 2 o'clock in the afternoon; we'll probably head home soon. We've been here since about 9 in the morning. We walk around, watching people do things. There's a family playing miniature golf; there are people in the arcade, playing games. There's a man with brown hair and a brownish gray suite on who is walking a white dog toward us. I didn't know they allowed dogs here. Alex notices him as well.

"What is he doing here?" Alex mutters. The man continues walking toward us; not really looking at us, but definitely coming toward us with purpose.

"You know him? Who is he?" I ask. I'm getting a little nervous; my old instincts are returning quickly.

"Mr. Crawley. He's from MI6…" Alex trails off. MI6! I thought they were going to leave us alone. I thought we were done with that part of our lives.

"Hello, Alex, Yassen. Funny running into you!" he exclaims, stopping in front of us.

"Mr. Crawley. What are you doing here?" Alex asks suspiciously.

"Well, I'm just out on a nice walk with Barker. Nothing wrong with that is there?" he asks.

"The last time I met you when you were with your dog, you got me to do a favor for MI6 that almost got me killed; again." Alex says.

"This is different, though. I'm not going to lie to you; this is a big deal. It could affect the whole world, and it most likely will. There's nowhere else we can turn to; we need you." Mr. Crawley says.

"Whatever it is, it's your problem, I don't care, and I'm _not _getting involved." Alex says forcefully.

"Alex, you have no idea how important this is. At least here me out." Mr. Crawley is literally begging now.

"Is any of this going to directly affect me in any way?" Alex asks.

"I think it could definitely affect you directly," Mr. Crawley says.

"Fine, we'll here you out. I'm not saying yes, though." Alex says.

We walk over to a table, and we sit down. Alex and I sit next to each other, Crawley sits across from us. The smell of French Fries reaches my nose. The summer sun beats down on us; it's a good thing we wore sunscreen.

"There's this new company, called Pythia. They've only been around for a couple months, but they're very powerful. There have been several explosions, in schools, all around the world. Pythia has been involved in some way each time. The targets don't appear to be any particular type of school; there are elementary, middle schools, and high schools that they are attacking. We believe they are planning something on a much larger scale than this," Mr. Crawley says.

"Like Invisible Sword?" Alex asks.

"…Yes, but on a much larger scale," he says after a moment. "We believe they are going to do something similar to that, but with bombs, and not just one school," he says. "The problem is if we tell the schools, they won't believe it. We don't know what schools or when it's going to happen,"

"So you want me to help you," Alex says. He realizes how serious this is.

"No. We want both Yassen and you to help us," Mr. Crawley says.

Alex looks really troubled. He gets the fact that if he says no, it could affect him. He also realizes that this isn't just about him anymore. It's about all the children that go to school. It could be about the whole world.

"What do you think?" Alex asks, turning to me.

"I think we should help them. I've had experience with Scorpia; Pythia sounds similar to them. That means that they will think like Scorpia, too. If we want to figure out what they're doing, the first question we should ask is why are they doing it?"

"We don't know," Crawley points out.

"Well, they could be doing it for money. Revenge of some kind. To show the world that they have power…" Alex trails off, his eyes widening in shock. "If they wanted to show the whole world they have power, they would do this on a much larger scale than anything we've ever seen. That would mean having school bombings worldwide…that could be disastrous!" Alex exclaims. I realize he's no longer acting rebellious; this is in his blood, no matter what. He can't seem to get away from the world he was thrown into when he was 14.

"Alex, you might be on to something. We have to figure out how to stop them, though. That means sending someone in…like a double agent," Crawley says carefully.

"No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! I will not do that! I've been in that situation before; I'm not doing it again!" Alex exclaims emphatically.

"Is there another possibility we could consider?" I ask, gently resting my hand on Alex's shoulder. At first he tries to shrug me off, but he stops himself. He looks at me with a pleading expression in his eyes. I also see something else, something I didn't think Alex would be feeling right now; fear. Why is he afraid?

"Well…not really," he admits.

"Then the answer is no," Alex says. "I don't want to have to go through that again."

"All right, maybe we can find someone else to do it. Thank you for hearing me out," Mr. Crawley walks away from us, dragging the dog behind him.

Later that night, Alex and I are sitting at the table. The air smells like the chicken soup we've been eating.

"Why don't you want to help MI6? This isn't just about other people, this time, Alex. It could directly affect you," I question.

"I just…I don't want to relive what happened with Scorpia the first time I did something like this," Alex says, but I can tell that that isn't the real reason he said no.

"There's something more, though. I know there is. I can see it in your eyes. Are you afraid it will be dangerous?" I ask gently. I don't want to make it seem like I'm mocking him, because I'm not. I have emotions and feelings, even if I don't show them very often. I know what fear feels like.

"I know it's going to be dangerous; it's always dangerous. I'm just…I'm scared that something's going to happen to you. I'm scared that you'll die," Alex says, his eyes shining with tears. I realize just how much he loves me. Two years ago, he swore he would kill me one day. Now he won't do an operation that could save his life, all because he's afraid I might get killed.

"Alex…we'd both be at risk. Not just me, but you too. This affects both of us. If Pythia is going to do something even bigger than Scorpia did, it could be a global disaster," I say.

Alex thinks about this for a while. I wait patiently while he processes this. "I know," he says finally.

"So…what do we do about it?" I ask.

"I guess we don't really have any choice but to go to MI6 and tell them we've changed our minds," he says, sighing. He sounds tired; I know why. He really doesn't want to do this, but he finally realizes that it's the only choice.

"We'll go to the Royal & General Bank tomorrow," I tell him. He nods, looking defeated.

"Alex, you know how much I love you, right?" I ask him suddenly.

"Yes, I love you just as much," he replies. We don't usually talk about this, so whenever we do, it feels special somehow.

"Alex, I would sacrifice myself for you. I would die for you," I say with passion.

"And I would die for you, Yassen," he says, his voice cracking with emotion. He swallows hard.

"This isn't just about you and me, now. It's about the whole world. I have a feeling Pythia is planning something bigger than anything Scorpia could plan. If it's anything like Scorpia, than this isn't just going to affect one part of the world. They're going to try and create chaos," I explain. He nods again, not trusting himself to speak. There are tears in his eyes. The way he's looking at me…it reminds me so much of John. His dark brown eyes are filled with sadness; as if he thinks I'm going to die soon.

I walk over to his side of the table. He's almost as tall as me now; he's not a little boy anymore. I wrap my arms around him, holding him tightly. He leans his head against my chest; I can feel his tears soaking into my shirt. The smell of the go-kart track is still lingering in his hair. I can hear the slight humming of the air conditioner in the attic.

"Alex, no matter what happens, I love you. I always will. Even if I die…I'll still be with you, in your memories," I whisper in his ear.

He just nods his head, still unable to speak. Finally, he pulls away from me, blinking tears away.

"You all right?" I ask him. He nods and manages a weak "Yes,"

We go to bed late; we both stay up till about 2 o'clock, which is normal for me. He curls up on the sofa, leaning his head against my shoulder. We're sitting in front of the TV, but it isn't on. We'll do that sometimes; just sit and enjoy each other's company. After a while, I realize he's asleep. I watch him for a while; I can see the slow rhythmic rising and falling of his chest. His warm breath brushes against my skin. Carefully, so I don't disturb him, I move away from him. I pick him up gently and carry him to his bed, tucking him in. I'm just about to leave when he stirs.

"Yassen?" he asks sleepily, sitting up slightly. The sheets rustle slightly as he shifts.

"I'm here," I reply softly.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too, Alex. Goodnight," I respond, smiling.

"Goodnight," he whispers, lying down again. The door creaks softly as I shut it. I walk to my room and go to sleep.

**That's the conclusion of chapter 1! I hope you liked it. It makes me a little sad, but I don't know why. It's not supposed to be sad…oh, all right, maybe it was a little. Can't wait to write the next chapter!**


	2. Training

**Here's the next chapter! I'm sorry I go from one day to the next really fast; I just wanted to get to the important part, but I had to explain what happened before that so it would make sense.**

**Oh, BTW none of you answered my poll, so I went ahead and decided on my own. Sorry, I'm not a very patient person.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

Chapter 2- Training

"We have found out that Pythia is definitely planning something big; they are doing it in September. We know this because they told us. They are very proud of this and they believe no one will know what's going to happen until it's too late," Mrs. Jones says. We are sitting in the Royal & General Bank, listening to her. The air around us is a bit chilly; it feels good compared to the boiling heat outside.

"So we won't have to do anything until closer to that time," Alex remarks, sounding relieved.

"Well…there is one thing. Alex, you have had training, but only to a certain extent. Yassen, John taught you, but you need more training. If you agree, we want to send you both back to the training camp," she explains.

"I…I don't see why not," Alex says. He glances at me. I nod. I'm all right with that.

"Good. Then it's decided. You will leave in two days," she says.

We leave the office, and go back to the house to start packing.

Two days later…

Alex and I arrive at the training camp at around 12 o'clock. We get settled in, and then we explore the compound. We are given one day to settle in, so we spend the day exploring and talking. Tomorrow we'll start training.

The next day, we are woken up early, at 7 o'clock. We eat breakfast, and then we start our training. We are put with three more men; we are all given code names. Alex keeps his old name, Cub, and I keep mine, Cossack. The other three men are introduced as Cobra, Hawk, and Tiger. Hawk seems to be the leader of the three men. They have been training with each other for about two months. Now we will join them.

The first training exercise we are doing is fairly simple; all we have do to is hike up a hill for five miles; we're being timed, though. We are given a maximum of three hours to complete the hike. We aren't really doing it as a team; but we can if we want to.

Alex and I stick together. I know I can walk five miles in 3 hours, but I realize Alex isn't as fit as I am.

"I wish I had my bike," Alex complains. "I could do this so much faster with my bike,"

"Well, you don't. There's no point complaining, it won't change anything. That's one of the things John taught me," I tell him. He nods, giving in. He takes a big swig of water.

"Don't drink all of that; you have to save it and make it last as long as possible," I advise. He closes the water and puts it away. We walk for a long while in silence. I check the time, by my calculations we've walked about a mile in 20 minutes, which is good time by my standards. Alex speaks then.

"Tell me about one of your missions with John," he says.

Alex does this every now and then, when we're just hanging out, enjoying each other's company. He'll ask me to tell him something about my past. I don't mind, I enjoy it most of the time. I think about what to tell him, John and I did a few mission together, which one should I tell him about?

"There aren't many that would interest you; mostly it's just that we went in to wherever, blew something up, shot someone, and then left," I say.

"Well, tell me about something that happened with you and John, then," I can tell Alex really wants to hear something about his father. What am I suppose to tell him? Then, the perfect story comes to mind.

"Well, there was this one time at Malagosto…your father and I were training. I had just arrived there recently, and I was showing amazing progress. They realized John and I were a good team, so they decided that we should stay together. There was this one boy; his name was Nile and he—" Alex cuts me off quickly.

"Nile! I knew Nile! He died." Alex says, looking at me with interest.

"Well, at the time Nile was actually quite young; I think he might have been younger than me. He didn't like me at all, though, I don't know why. There was one time where we were in one of the classrooms, studying. John and I were supposed to be training; I was waiting for him but he wasn't supposed to be there for a while.

"Nile was nice enough to me, but a lot of people use to bully him because of his condition. At the time, he was just starting to develop splotches of white all over him. He hated it. One day one of the older kids were bullying him, and he beat the kid up. He almost killed the kid. After that, there weren't many people who bothered him. For some reason, he didn't like me. Maybe because I was better than him and he knew it. I don't know.

"Anyway, we were in the classroom together, just me and him. We were both studying, and all of a sudden he got up and came over to me. He knocked the book out of my hands and onto the floor.

"'You think you're so special,'" he sneered at me. When I was at Malagosto, for the most part, I kept to myself or stuck close to John. That's why this surprised me; usually I never talked to anyone except John.

'"What are you talking about?' I exclaimed, wondering why he was doing this.

"'You think you're so special because you and John Rider are mates and you're the highest one in our class. Well, now I'm going to be the highest one, and then everyone will treat _me _like a king," he told me, pulling out a knife. He started coming for me, striding across the room. I was so surprised that I didn't react for a second. I realized what he was doing, and I pulled out my own knife. He went straight for my throat, but I sliced him across the chest. I didn't do it very hard; I didn't want kill him because I didn't feel the need, and he was my age. He was annoying, he wasn't really endangering me. I _was _better than him, and I knew it. That's when everything got crazy.

"He lunged for me, going for my throat again. This time, he almost got me. I moved at the last second, and I felt the tip of the blade graze my neck. A few more inches and I would have been dead. I slashed out at him and sliced him across the arm. He totally ignored it, and he tried to get me again. He leapt on top of me, wrestling me to the ground. He was only a bit bigger than me, but he was heavier. He placed his knees right on my chest so I couldn't move. My hands were behind my back and the knife had fallen out of my hands, so I was helpless. He was inches away from my throat. He suddenly slowed down a lot; now that he had me like that he, where I couldn't move, he wanted me to suffer. It was then that John came in and he saw us fighting. The knife was inches from my throat; John ran up behind Nile and threw him off me. Nile went flying across the room, landing in a heap a few feet away.

"John saved my life that day. They found out about it, and from then on they kept me and Nile away from each other," I finish. I still remember when that happened. It was a little scary how close he came to killing me.

"I asked John later why he had come; he wasn't supposed to be there for at least ten more minutes. He told me he just knew something was happening; he knew something was wrong,"

"Nile tried to kill you? But why? What's the point?" Alex asks.

"I don't know. He thought he was better than me, but because of his weakness, he wasn't at the top of our class. He thought that by killing me, he would be able to show everyone that he was better than me. He probably would have done it, too, if John hadn't come and saved me," I tell him.

He's silent for a while; we've been walking for about two hours by now. I'm not really tired, but Alex looks a little tired. I pull out the water bottle from his backpack and hand it to him. He takes a small sip of water.

"Drink a little more, Cub. It's all right," I say quietly. He drinks a little more, and then offers it to me. I shake my head, and he puts it away.

"When you were at Malta, why didn't you kill Ash? Why did you just stab him?" Alex asks me suddenly. I think about this. I remember that; I thought they would kill John; I was angry.

"I wanted him to bear a scar from me that would be with him for the rest of his life; to remind him of me. I wanted him to know that I was dangerous, and so was John," I reply finally. Alex nods but stays silent. He's deep in thought. We don't talk for the rest of the hike. We're the first people to finish. We've only drank about half of our water, too.

"Good job, you two. Excellent work," Major Hersey says. We've finished with about half an hour to go. The others come as a group about 20 minutes later. We're sent back to the cabin to shower; dinner will be at 7:30.

The cabin we are staying in is very small; the walls are gray; there is a bluish colored carpet. There are three bunk beds; they are basically a metal frame with a thin plastic mattress on top. Alex and I claim one of the empty bunk beds; Alex climbs up to the top bunk and starts to settle in. There is a small bathroom with two showers and three toilets. The whole place smells like Lysol. It's warm; stiflingly warm because it's summer. Of course the air conditioner is broken. As move around, the floor creaks and groans. Cobra is the last man to come in and the door squeaks behind him, closing with a thud.

"Yassen—" Alex starts, leaning over the edge of his bed to look at me.

"Never speak my real name, even here. Always call me my code name," I say quickly but gently.

"Right. Cossack, what if MI6 is wrong? What if Pythia is lying?" Alex says quietly.

"If Pythia is anything like Scorpia, and I think they are, they won't lie about something like this. If anything, they'll be planning something on a much larger scale than any of us realize," I tell him.

Alex looks at me, and then looks away. I watch him carefully. He looks back at me. I can tell he's trying to hide his fear. He's not doing a very good job. I sit down on the bed underneath him. I pat the mattress next to me. He climbs down from his bed and sits down beside me. I wrap my arm around his shoulder and he leans against me.

"It's all right if you're afraid. I'm scared too," I admit, giving his shoulder a small squeeze. "What exactly happened when you were with Scorpia?" I ask. He's told me the basics, but he's never told me the full story. "What was Invisible Sword?"

"Well, at the beginning of the school year, we're all given shots to prevent diseases and stuff. Scorpia somehow injected this thing called nanoshells into the shot. Each nanoshell contained cyanide. They were going to use radio waves to break up the nanoshells and release the cyanide. It would have killed everyone who had that shot. Including me." He explains. I think about this for a while. I realize how much danger Alex was in at that time. He could have died…

"Did Mrs. Rothman know about that? Did she order you to be given a shot?" I ask. He nods. I'm starting to regret agreeing to all this. This is getting complicated and dangerous. I decide not to voice my concern right now. We haven't even started the mission yet. Maybe it won't be as bad as it seems.

We head to the dining hall at about 7:25. There are a lot of people gathered there. There are cream colored tables set up in rows of three on each side of the hall. The meals are simple; tonight its spaghetti and meatballs. It's actually quite cool inside, which is a relief since it's still fairly warm outside. It smells like pasta and Windex. We sit at a table with our cabin mates. While we're eating, I start thinking about Malagosto. Alex and I have both been there; we know what it's like. I wonder what's become of it since Scorpia was destroyed.

"What are you thinking about?" Alex asks casually, taking a bite of food.

"Wondering what happened to Malagosto since Scorpia was destroyed," I say, glancing up at him.

"I don't know. Maybe it's been abandon," he speculates. I shrug. It probably has been abandon; no one wants it because of its history. We eat in silence for a while and then I speak.

"What about you? What are you thinking about?" I ask.

"Are we ever going to be able to get out of this?" Alex questions.

"What do you mean?" I inquire.

"Is MI6 ever going to leave us alone?" Alex sighs, sounding exasperated.

"I don't know. If you were 18…I would say probably not. You're still just a kid when it comes right down to it, though. I thought Mrs. Jones would never involve you in anything like this again. She cares about you a lot more than she lets on. I don't think she ever wanted you to get involved in any of this; at least till you're older," I tell him.

"Why do they think they need me? Why can't they just leave me alone to live my life?" he's getting angry now.

"Cub—" I start, but he interrupts me.

"Don't call me that! It's not my real name! I'm not Cub. I'm _Alex. _I never wanted this. I never wanted any of this. I want to be _normal_." He snarls, hitting the table with his fist and making the silverware clank. Heads turn in our direction; people are starting to notice what's happening.

"Listen, I never wanted this to start again either," I say.

"Then why did you agree to do it? Why did you convince me this was the best option?" he says, his voice rising in distress.

"I didn't know it would be like this. Maybe it's not as bad as we think. Look, we're in now, and there's nothing we can do about it,"

"Yes there is! We can tell them we've changed our minds! We can go back to our lives, our normal lives!" He says. People are watching us. Hawk, Cobra, and Tiger are glaring at us.

"Let's take a walk. Is that all right?" I ask, wanting desperately to get away from all these people.

We both stand silently and leave the dining hall. We step outside; the night air is warm, but it's not as bad as it was earlier. It smells like car exhaust and dirt from all the cars driving around here constantly. I can hear crickets chirping all around us.

"Listen. I know how you feel. You're life's been all screwed up since Ian died. You never knew about any of this until then. You never _wanted _any of this. I get that. We're in now, though, and there's not really anything we can do about it. I know you think we can just tell MI6 we've changed our minds and go back to our lives, but it's more complicated than that." I explain carefully.

"With MI6, everything is complicated," Alex says. He's calmer now. Getting out of the crowded dining hall helped, I think.

"What are we supposed to do? Every time I go on a mission for these people, it always turns out to be more than I bargained for. I always end up getting into some terrible situation, and most of the time someone wants me dead," he says exasperated.

"Trust me, I know how that feels. There are many people who have tried to kill me. I've told you that before," I tell him.

"I just want this all to end. I want to go to school and hang out with friends. I want to enjoy watching TV with you! I want to be normal!" he says, repeating what he said in the dining hall.

"After this…after all this is finished, we're done. No matter what happens, we'll never get back into this. Unless you're older and you really want to, we'll never come back to this life. It will be part of our past." I tell him with conviction.

"Promise?" he asks.

"I promise," I say. He nods, smiling at me.

"Good. I never want to come back to this life again." I say.

"If that's your choice, we never will," I tell him. We walk back to the cabin in silence, and for the first time in years, I go to bed at 10 o'clock, and I fall asleep peacefully.

**Chapter 3 will be here soon (I hope)! I have STAR testing starting this Friday, so I'll be able to write a lot during that time. Remember to R&R!**


	3. I'm Alive

**Chapter 3 is here!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.**

Chapter 3- "I'm Alive"

I wake up early; it's starting to get light outside. I glance around the cabin; Cobra, Hawk, and Tiger are all sleeping peacefully. I slowly get up and glance at Alex; he's also asleep. I know I won't be able to go to sleep again, so I decide to go on a walk. I get dressed quickly, and despite my best efforts to stay silent, the floor still creaks as I ease toward the door. I curse under my breath in Russian; I don't want to wake anyone up. I get to the door and I've just grabbed the knob when I hear a slight sound coming from Alex's bed. I glance over, and I see him shifting. He sits up in bed slightly, and he notices me by the door. I put my index finger up to my lip, then point in the direction of the other three men who are still asleep. He nods in understanding, and then climbs out of bed. He gets dressed as well, and then he makes his way over to me. I notice that the floor doesn't creak as he walks; he's found a route that's silent.

When he reaches me, he whispers, "What are you doing?"

"I decided to go on a walk. Wanna join me?" I reply, also in a whisper.

"Sure," he says. He opens the door slowly, and slips outside with me right behind him. I let the door shut gently on my fingers, and then I slip my fingers out, closing it as quietly as possible. We walk toward the mountains in the distance; away from all the buildings. I don't know where we're going; we're just wandering around.

"Tell me about my mom," Alex says suddenly.

"What about her? I never met her." I ask.

"Well, I know that. Did my dad ever talk about her?"

"Yeah…he would bring her up every now and then. Whenever we were on a mission where we were doing recon, he would tell me he missed her. He sometimes told me stories about her."

"Like what? Can you remember any stories?"

"There's not a lot I remember. They didn't get to see each other all that much because he was with Scorpia. He sometimes said he missed her, when we were on missions far away from home. I was the first person to know that Helen was pregnant with you because John told me." I remember that John gave me something before we went on the mission to Malta. I think I still have it. I pull my wallet out and look inside. In the pocket that holds my driver's license, right behind it is a picture. As I pull it out, a folded up piece of paper falls out. I bend over and pick it up. I don't remember putting that there. I hand Alex the picture; it's a picture of his mom. She has brown hair and brown eyes; she's very pretty. I don't know when it was taken, but I'm pretty sure she was married to John at the time. Alex flips it over and I notice that there's writing on the back. That wasn't there when John gave it to me.

"What does it say?" I ask.

"It says 'give to Alex when he is older'" Alex reads. "What about the note?" he motions toward the folded piece of paper which is still in my hands. I carefully unfold it and start to read it out loud.

"Dear Yassen, I'm writing you this letter because I trust you to keep this a secret, and you need to know the truth. I don't think it really matters that you keep all of this a secret because I suspect Scorpia already knows about it, but keep it secret anyway. I'm not working for Scorpia; I'm working for MI6. I'm also not dead, in case that is what you think. If you saw the video of AlbertBridge, I want you to know that that was all faked. I didn't die there. I'm sorry that half of my life with you has been a lie. I wish I could have stayed with you, but MI6 needed to pull me out because it was getting too dangerous for me to stay there. Scorpia was starting to suspect something was up, and MI6 was worried that they would find out I was a double agent. I hope you aren't too mad at me for never telling you this before. I would have, but it would have put my mission in jeopardy. MI6 is going to try and take Scorpia down soon. I tried to protect you as much as possible, but MI6 thinks you're dangerous, and for good reason: you are dangerous. MI6 will kill you if you stay near Scorpia, and I can only hope you get this letter in time. I am warning you now to run away; get as far away from Malagosto as possible. Go to Russia, or China, or somewhere far away from Scorpia. Stay in hiding until everything has calmed down. I am going to do the same; I'm going into hiding, but I suspect that Rose knows that I'm a double agent. I suspect that she will try and kill me.

I'm leaving Alex, my son, behind. Hopefully he will be safe from her. If I do die, Alex will go with my brother, Ian. If for some reason something happens to Ian, Alex's godfather is supposed to be Ash, but I have reconsidered this because of the wound you gave him in Malta. I think that it would be better if you took him. If you do take him, I ask only that you will never teach him what they taught us at Malagosto; I want him to live a normal life without all the complications of MI6 and Scorpia in his life. He doesn't need any of that in his world. I want him to be normal, whatever that may mean. The last thing I want to tell you is that I love you. Even though Alex is my son by blood, you will always be a son to me, in my heart. Whatever happens to me, I want you to know that I will never stop loving you. Your good friend and father, John Rider." I finish reading; Alex and I are sitting down on a log about five minutes away from the training camp, near the mountains.

"So…John did tell you he was a spy instead of an assassin. You just never got the letter. He warned you about MI6 taking down Scorpia…it never happened though," Alex says. He seems stunned; he's still holding the picture of his mother. I barely hear anything he says, though. I'm staring at the letter John wrote me. Of course, I should have known it was there, the picture was turned around, not the way I had it. It was underneath my driver's license as well. I should have known something was different. It's strange that I only noticed that now.

"Who's Rose?" Alex asks.

"That was our code name for Mrs. Rothman," I explain, still deep in thought.

I flip the letter over; there's something written on the back. There are two words: "I'm alive" and a date. May 12, 2001. Alex notices the writing as well, and comes over to look at it.

"It can't be…that's impossible…he can't be alive," I mutter, staring at the date.

"It's his handwriting," Alex says.

"How do you know?" I ask curiously.

"I've seen his handwriting before. It's identical to mine," he says.

"The date is from last year, around the time we were taking down Scorpia. How did neither of us notice this?" I ask. I don't know what to think. If this is real…that means John has to be alive. Unless he died sometimes between then and now.

"We have to find him! We have to!" Alex exclaims, leaping up.

"I agree, but not right now. We have to finish the mission first. After the mission, though, we'll find him,"

"Promise?"

"I promise we'll find him, after the mission,"

"So I guess our promise about getting out of all this might be broken," Alex states after a moment.

"Yes, it probably will be. It's for John, though. We both want to find John, and I think if finding him requires us to break that promise, it's worth it."

"So do I," Alex says. I check my watch; it's almost time for breakfast. We head back toward the compound; I fold the letter back up and put it in my wallet. We enter the dining hall to find our cabin mates already there.

"Where'd you two wander off to?" Hawk asks suspiciously.

"We just took a little walk," I explain. Just because he's been the leader of Cobra and Tiger for a few months doesn't mean he can control what we do. We're all old enough to be independent, even if Hawk might not think so.

He doesn't respond, but instead sits down at the table and begins eating. Alex and I sit next to each other; the other three men sit across from us.

"What are we doing today?" I ask them.

"Don't know. They usually don't tell us until we report for duty," Hawk says curtly. I can tell they don't really feel like talking to us.

I glance at Alex, and our eyes meet. I can tell that he's met these kinds of people before; they're in their own little group and they resent us for coming in and ruining their party. I wonder if this SAS group is anything like the first SAS group Alex was in.

As if he's reading my mind, he leans over so they can't hear him and says, "Yeah, they're just like Wolf and his group was when we first met,"

"That's not good, is it?" I say, realizing that our lives here might not be as good as we hoped.

"No, it's not. Wolf and his group tortured me, Wolf especially. We weren't a good group…they were working totally separately from me, even though we're supposed to be working together," he says.

"Well, let's try and work together with them as much as possible," I advise, and he nods.

One month later…

We now have a daily routine; get up, eat breakfast, and go to the training field and find out what we're doing that day. After breakfast today, we leave the dining hall and report to the training field.

"Yassen, Alex, Captain Hersey wants to see you in his office immediately," one of the Sergeants says.

We obediently go to Captain Hersey's office. I wonder why he wants to see us. Maybe there's been a change with this Pythia thing. Maybe we were wrong about the timing. When we reach his office, I knock on the door and wait until he tells us to enter. His office is very dull; it has white walls, a few plants in the back corners, and a big desk right at the center. There's a window that overlooks the training field behind him, and another smaller window that overlooks the shooting range.

"You wanted to see us?" I ask politely, talking a seat in front of him. Alex takes a seat next to me.

"Yes. MI6 wants you to go on a mission. It's part of your training; it's actually required in our training program. There's someone who has been making threats against MI6; we need to figure out why. Basically it's a recon job. Just in case, though, we're giving you guns and bulletproof vests. The good part is, it's happening right next door to us, practically. We're only a few miles away from where the compound is. You will be leaving tomorrow. The rest of today, you will be going through what you will do during your assignment, and you will be packing. You are dismissed. You can go to the training field. Major Tanner is there, waiting for you." he explains.

We walk back down to the training field, where Major Tanner is. He tells us what our mission will be, and for most of the day we are there, learning what we will do on the mission. That night, we pack what little things we will need. As a last minute though, I take my first aid kit out of my duffle bag and put it into the backpack to take along with me. I don't expect to use it, but just in case anything happens, I want to be ready.

I'm surprised that I fall asleep so quickly, because the next thing I know Alex is shaking me awake.

"It's time to get ready," he says quietly. I glance around the cabin; the other three men are still sleeping. We get dressed and quietly leave the cabin, and we head toward the small airport they have on base. Even though it's only a few miles away from here, we're parachuting in as part of the training exercise.

We board the airplane, and soon we're flying over the place we're suppose to parachute to.

"Wolf was scared of heights. So was Nile," Alex says, yelling above the sound of the engine.

"Wolf, scared of heights? I can hardly believe that!" I exclaim.

"He was. When we did the parachuting exercise, I had to push him out of the plane or he would have been sent home. That's the only reason we became friends, because I saved him from being embarrassed, and from being sent home," Alex says.

The pilot turns around to look at us.

"All right, you can jump now. Good luck," he yells. As I jump out of the plane, I feel a rush of wind, and I pull the handle that releases the parachute. I wait a few seconds, and then I feel myself being jerked upward as the parachute fills with air. I use the toggles to steer myself through the forest to a place where it's safe to land. Once we've landed, I realize that we'll have to hike a bit to get to the compound we're supposed to be watching. It's not far, and after about ten minutes we reach the forest that surrounds the compound.

"This is a good place to have a secret hide out, except for the fact that the SAS training camp is a few miles away," I comment.

"Yeah, well, maybe he was thinking of that when he set up base. It seems like a pretty good position to me." Alex replies.

We hunker down in the trees in front of the building. We have cameras, radios that just happen to be on the same wavelength as theirs, and a bunch of other things that will help us. Now all we have to do is wait, watch, and listen. That's our job.

"Did I ever tell you about Skoda?" Alex asks.

"No, who's he?"

"He was a drug dealer at our school. He sold drugs to almost all the students. Totally messed up our campus. I followed him one day, on my bike. You know where he was living? In a boat right next to the police station. There was some construction work going on near there, and I decided to drop Skoda's boat right on the police stations front porch. I almost succeeded, too, but they stopped me. I bet Skoda was arrested though. That was what got me involved in one of my missions, unfortunately. They would have called me in anyway, but…"

I laugh. I can imagine Alex doing something like this. It's just like him to think of some crazy way to do something; very irrational, but it works.

"You know, a normal person would have just walked up to the police and told them there was a drug dealer living right next to them,"

"I must not be a normal person, then," Alex says, smiling.

"No, I don't think you are," I smile back. I hear the crackling of static on the radio, signaling someone is about to start talking.

"I've found them. Get rid of them," a voice says. I realize what the voice is talking about a second before hell breaks loose. I say a really bad word in Russian, and I half stand up, shouldering my bag.

"We have to get out of here, now!" I exclaim. Alex stands up and starts to gather our gear.

"Leave it! We don't have time!" Alex drops everything except his backpack, which he quickly shoulders.

"How do they know we're here?" he exclaims, sounding bewildered and angry. There's not a trace of fear in his voice, but I know him well enough that I know he's afraid.

"Beats me, but they do," I say. I turn around and start to walk away quickly; Alex follows. That's when the bullets start flying. There's a clatter of machine gun fire; but I can't tell where they are or how many of them there are.

We both start to run away from the compound as fast as we can. I feel a bullet graze my shoulder, but it doesn't break anything except the bulletproof vest I'm wearing. I'm glad SAS gave us those, now. I see Alex get hit on the back of the leg, right below the knee. He wavers a little, and I grab his arm.

"Keep moving!" I say through gritted teeth.

After we run for about 10 minutes, I realize that there are no longer bullets flying around us. I stop, and I realize I'm still holding Alex by his arm.

"Where'd you get hit?" I ask, remembering he's hurt.

"The leg. It's nothing. I'm fine, honestly…" Alex slowly sinks to the ground, his right leg stretched out in front of him. His face is pale, ashen even. I look at his leg; there is blood covering the back of it. I cut his pants leg so I can see how much damage the bullet caused. His leg is covered in blood; I can tell there is a lot of muscle damage. The wound is gushing blood. I call Captain Hersey.

"Alex has been hurt. We need to get him to the hospital as fast as possible," I exclaim as soon as the line connects.

"I'll send a helicopter," he replies and hangs up.

I decide to try and give Alex at least some medical treatment. I grab my first aid kit; I'm glad I brought it. I pull a gauzy bandage wrap out and I tear Alex's pants leg off so I can wrap his leg up. I glance at his face; it's very pale.

"Alex, you're going to be all right. There's a helicopter on the way," I say while wrapping his leg up tightly. He doesn't reply, and I know something's wrong. He's lost too much blood, and the bandage isn't helping. I move closer to him and I let him lean back against my chest.

"Alex, stay with me. You're going to be all right. Do you hear me? Alex? Alex!" I start to call his name. His eyes roll back into his head. I shake him, trying to keep him conscious.

"Alex, stay with me!" I realize what's happening. I feel a lump rise in my throat and tears forming in my eyes.

"Alex, please, don't leave me. Please don't die," I beg.

"I…I love you, Yassen," Alex says, and then he goes limp.

"I love you too, Alex," I whisper. I feel for a pulse, and to my relief I feel one. It's very faint, though, and it's fading fast. And then, suddenly, he stops breathing.

Everything is silent. I rest my head on his shoulder and I begin to cry for the first time in 16 years. I look at Alex's face, and I realize that he will never be able to meet his father. The faint buzzing of a helicopter slowly fills the air, but I barely hear it.

**That's the end of the chapter. THERE WILL BE MORE! Don't flip out on me; this isn't the end of the story. Far from it, at least I hope so. This is where it gets interesting. Please, R&R away. Comments are very welcome at this time. I don't mind it you hate me right now…you should, in fact! Oh, one more thing.**

**To Albany: I'm sorry I had to do this to you, but keep reading because it gets interesting, I promise.**


	4. Recovery

**Chapter 4 is here! I know you've been waiting for this, so here it is.**

**Disclaimer: blah, blah, blah, don't own Alex Rider, blah, blah, blah.**

Chapter 4- Recovery

I hear the monitor beeping quietly. The room is cool, but I'm use to it. There is a window with light blue curtains that are half closed. The smell of cleaning supplies hangs heavily in the air. Alex is lying on the hospital bed; I can see his chest rising and falling slowly. He's been in a coma for three days. The doctors said he would survive. He lost a lot of blood; too much. It turns out that we have the same blood type, so I donated blood to him. They took the bullet out of his leg. He won't be able to be up and about for a while because of the muscle damage to his leg.

After Alex stopped breathing, I thought he was lost, but the helicopter came and they were able to make him start breathing normally again. He's stable, but he's in a coma. I've been at the hospital for 72 hours straight, only leaving Alex's room to eat and go to the bathroom.

Suddenly, I feel something; movement. I look at his face, watching him intently. Slowly, his eyes blind open. I watch as he glances around. He gives a groan and shifts on the bed. The door behind me swings open and the doctor comes in.

"He's awake," I state, feeling numb. The doctor's weren't sure he would wake up, but he has.

"I can see that. Hello Alex, how are you feeling?" the doctor asks him kindly.

"Groggy. How long?" he croaks.

"Three days." I say. "Here," I add, handing him some water. The doctor leaves us.

He takes the water and drinks thirstily. "I'm starving!" he exclaims after drinking the whole glass of water. I smile; I can feel tears welling in my eyes.

He glances at me and smiles. I smile back. "What happened?" he asks, the smile dropping off his face.

"Well…you lost a lot of blood from the bullet in your leg. You stopped breathing at one point. The doctors were able to revive you. You went into a coma, and you've been in that state till now," I explain briefly.

"How did they know we were there?" Alex asks.

"I've been in this room, by your side for 72 hours straight. I haven't had contact with the outside world at all, so I don't know." I reply.

"Why?" Alex asks, looking confused.

"I don't know. Maybe because I was worried about you? Maybe it's because I love you?" I say sarcastically. He smiles and leans over the side of the bed. I lean forward and we hug each other.

"Thanks for being here for me," he says quietly. He stays silent for a moment, still holding on to me. "The last thing I remember before I passed out is you crying. Was that real?" he asks, pulling away from me.

"Yes, Alex, I cried. I thought you were dead. You stopped breathing. I was scared I had lost you," I admit. I'm not afraid to admit it; he knows me well enough now to know I have emotions.

He looks at me, and I see a small glimmer of fear in his eyes.

"Am I going to be able to use my leg?" he asks.

"Yes, you will. You'll have to stay in the hospital for a few months, but eventually you'll be able to use your leg again. The doctor says that if you go through therapy, you will probably not walk with a limp. There was a lot of muscle damage, but the nerves in your leg were not hurt,"

"What about our training? I won't be able to do that, will I?" he asks.

"No. I will still go through the training, but you won't be able to," I say.

"Will you come and visit me?" he asks.

"Of course," why would he think I wouldn't visit him?

He starts to try and sit up; I help him by easing him backwards and propping him against his pillows. His movements are slow and careful. He throws the covers off him and swings his legs over the side of the bed.

"Alex, what are you doing?" I question.

He looks at himself, and then looks around the room. He sees a body-length mirror, and he tries to stand. The moment his feet touch the ground, he collapses. I grab his arm and help him stand. He puts his arm around my shoulder.

"Help me to the mirror," he grunts. He starts to limp over to the mirror. His injured leg touches the floor and he slowly puts his weight back onto it. He gives a small yelp, and he lifts his leg off the ground. I take almost all his weight as he leans against me. He keeps moving forward, hopping on one leg. When we finally reach the mirror, Alex looked exhausted. He stares at himself. His hair is a mess, his face is pale, and he's wearing a long nightgown the hospital put on him after he had surgery. His leg is wrapped in a white bandage. He looks…weak. Not like the strong, confident Alex I know.

"I look like hell," he comments. I smile; he does, but he still sounds like normal old Alex.

"You'll get better," I tell him.

"Are we still in Australia?" he asks suddenly.

"Yes, we are. This hospital is owned by SAS," I tell him. He nods slowly, understanding. Then he turns around and starts to limp back to his bed, with me helping him. He gets back into bed, and he falls asleep almost immediately. Just walking to the mirror and back, which is only about 10 feet from his bed, has totally whipped him out.

I go out into the hallway, where the doctor is waiting.

"He's doing all right. It's good that he woke up; we'll start to have him exercise a bit in a few weeks. He'll be able to do normal activities again in roughly two months, if everything goes smoothly." The doctor tells me.

"That's good. I suppose I should go back to the SAS training camp now," I sigh. I don't want to leave Alex here all alone, but I don't really have a choice.

"Actually, Mrs. Jones wants to talk to you before you go back," the doctor says.

"Is she here?" I'm surprised Mrs. Jones would fly out here just for Alex and me.

"Yes, she is." Just then, Mrs. Jones comes around the corner. She spots me and the doctor, and she quickens her pace.

"How is he? Has he woken up yet?" she asks, sounded distressed. She looks much older than last time I saw her.

"He just woke up," I reply.

"Thank God!" she exclaims, sounding relieved. "Yassen, you should go back to SAS and tell them everything that happened. We still don't know how the men knew you were there; we're still working on that," she explains.

"All right. I'll go report back to Captain Hersey," I say.

A few hours later, I'm back in the training camp, in my cabin. I told Captain Hersey everything that happened at the compound. Now I'm resting and waiting until dinner. I'll start training again tomorrow, but for now Captain Hersey wants me to rest. I think about Alex; I wonder how he is. I wish I were still there with him, but I know I need to continue with the training. I realize that I'm somewhat lonely without him; we've been living with each other for about two years now; I miss him. I pull out the note John put in my wallet. How did he get it in there? When did he get it in there? I stare at his handwriting; what if it's not his? What if it's fake? I know better, though. I recognize his handwriting; I would recognize it anywhere. I remember the moment I found out he was dead; or I thought he was dead. I had been so devastated. That was the last time I cried; 16 years ago, when John died.

The next few weeks are uneventful; I go and visit Alex and do training. Nothing really happens. SAS found out that there were lasers outside the compound; we must have tripped them on our way in. There was also a mole working on the inside; our men went in to get him, but they found him dead. Apparently, the man we were after was smarter than we thought. After he chased us off, he killed the mole with cyanide and set fire to his own building. Now SAS has lost them; they dropped off the radar. They'll find them again, though.

I head to the hospital to visit Alex; he's going to start his therapy. Technically, he's already started; the doctors and nurses have been making him do small leg exercises to help strengthen his leg. Today he's supposed to start walking around a little. When I reach his room, he's sitting on the edge of the bed. The doctor suggested that we go slowly; all we'll be doing is walking around the hospital until he starts to feel tired or his leg starts to hurt, and then we'll come back to his room.

He starts to stand up and I move forward to help him.

"I'm all right," he says, grimacing. I can tell he hates this; he feels vulnerable and weak. He _is _vulnerable and weak, but he'll start to get stronger soon. He straightens up, and I realize that this is the first time he's been able to stand on his own two feet in months. He glances at me, and then slowly takes a step shaky step forward. He reaches out toward me, and I grab his arm gently. He takes another step, and soon he's walking with my help. I slowly let go of him, and he starts walking on his own. It's very slow and methodical, but he's doing it. He gets to the door, and he opens it and step out into the hallway. We start to walk around in silence.

"This reminds me of the last time I was at the hospital. Paul Drevin was right next to me," he says.

"Drevin? Wasn't that the Russian man who created Ark Angel?" I ask. I know I recognize that name from somewhere.

"It was his son. He was Nikolei Drevin," Alex responds.

"Didn't he die in a plane accident or something?" I ask.

"…Yeah, kindov. He was one of the unfortunate people who happened to run into me. His ending was more complicated than just a plane accident," Alex says hesitantly.

"What happened?" I ask. Now I'm really interested.

"Well, I tied some canoes to his airplane, and they got caught in the trees. The plane stopped in midair and it exploded and fell out of the sky. He wasn't that high up." Alex explains; his face expressionless.

"I thought you didn't kill people. That's what I heard from MI6." I say. I know that's not really true; he did kill Damian Cray, but that was different.

"I'm not like you were. I'm not a killer. I didn't kill him intentionally; I didn't kill Cray intentionally either. There's only one person I've ever killed, and it was for a good reason," Alex says.

"Who was that?" I ask.

"Julius Greif. Have you heard of that mission?" he asks. I realize he doesn't want to talk about it for some reason.

"I've heard about how Grief's school was destroyed and he was creating clones of all the famous children, yes. We don't have to discuss this if you don't want to," I tell him.

"I'm all right. Julius was one of the 16 clones Grief made. He was made to look exactly like me. Scorpia helped him escape from the prison he was in. We met each other again on my last mission…the one where…" he trails off for a few seconds. I wait patiently. "Anyway, he was the one who did that. I went after him and I killed him. He wanted to kill me, too. He would have if I hadn't killed him first." Alex finishes.

"Alex, you truly are amazing," I comment.

"Me? Why?" he asks, sounding shocked.

"Julius was you're clone; when you shot him, didn't it feel like you were killing a part of yourself?" I ask. I realize that what I'm talking about is probably bringing back horrible memories for him, but it's too late now.

"I suppose I just do what you do. What they trained us to do in Malagosto. I didn't think of him as a person, I never had before, so it wasn't that hard. He did look like me, but at the same time, he didn't. He changed his look so he _wouldn't _look like me. He didn't want to. All that mattered was my finger pulling the trigger back. That was where all my focus was. I wasn't really thinking about anything when I killed him. It was actually quite easy. Is that how you feel when you're killing someone?"

"Yes, that seems quite accurate. I don't feel anything; I don't think about the fact that they're flesh and blood. I don't think about the fact that they might have families and friends who care about them. I never use to, anyway. Ever since Eagle Strike though…"

"What?"

"Well, I'm not sure quite what it was, but something made me just…not want to kill people anymore. Something just made me realize that after the business with Cray, I would probably be done. I don't know what I was thinking of doing after that, exactly, but I knew I wouldn't be going back to work for Scorpia. Maybe it was seeing you again that made me start to change. I don't know." I tell him. I've never told anyone that before. I haven't really thought of it since then, either.

"I'm starting to get a little tired," Alex says.

"All right. We'll go back then," I say.

"I feel so weak. I don't like it. It's like I'm…vulnerable, like I can't do hardly anything." he says as we start to head back to the room.

"You'll get better. Each day, you'll walk around a little more and more. You're leg will get stronger." I assure him.

"I know, it's just that…I wish I could do training. I'm lonely without you. I miss you," Alex confesses.

"You know, I'm lonely without you, too. We weren't training for that long, but we had a routine, you know? We always did training together, separately from the other men. We're supposed to be a team, but we aren't. I don't think we ever will be."

We walk back to the room, and when we get there, Mrs. Jones is waiting for us.

"Alex, good to see you. How are you feeling?" she asks.

"I'm all right." He replies.

"I've brought some stuff for you, to keep you entertained while you're not doing therapy." She hands him a bag with books and magazines in it. There were a few letters and flowers by Alex's bed.

"I should go; I have to talk to the director of SAS. I'll be here if you need anything. I hope you get better soon, and not just because I want you to get going on the mission," she adds as she leaves.

"Read some letters to me," Alex says, lying back down on the bed. I put the covers over him and sit on the edge of the bed.

I pick up a few letters from his friends. One is from Tom, and another is from Sabina and her family. I read them to him, and then I pick up some more. I open one, and I start reading. It's typed, unlike most of the others.

"Dear Alex, I'm very sorry to hear you've been hurt. Here's a riddle to make you feel better. I am jumping, I am not obnoxious, I am near you, I am happy, and I am running. What am I? Here's a hint: I am the first; I am invisible." I finish in confusion. What the heck? Who would write such a stupid letter?

"Who's it from?" Alex asks, just as confused.

"It isn't sighed. Whoever it is, it says it's a riddle. Maybe we should try and solve it," I say.

Alex takes the letter and examines it. "The last part says here's a hint: I am the first. The first what? What does that mean?" Alex questions.

"Maybe it means the first word of each sentence…but the first word of each sentence is I." This is very confusing. Alex keeps staring at the letter.

"Maybe it's the first letter of each of these words. Jumping, obnoxious, near, happy, running. If you put them together…" Alex trials off, his eyes widening.

"John R. Oh my God!" I exclaim. "What does it mean when it says I am invisible?" I add.

"Well, we haven't seen him for 16 years. Maybe that's what it means," Alex says.

"You haven't seen him at all, except in a picture," I tell him.

"You know what I mean!" I tell him.

"I don't think that's what John meant. That doesn't seem like him; there's a deeper meaning. Something he wants us to interpret,"

"Well, what things can be invisible? Invisible ink…maybe he wrote something in invisible ink." Alex says thoughtfully.

"That means we need a black light. I might actually have one," I say after a moment of thought. I pull out a pen with some buttons on it. I push one, and purple light comes out of one of the pointers. I point it towards the paper, searching for hidden writing. Below what is typed, there is something handwritten. I read it out loud. "Dear Alex, if you are reading this, then you have solved my riddle. As you have probably guessed, I am alive. If you haven't already, check Yassen's wallet for the letter and the picture of your mom. it's behind his driver's license. I know about your mission with Pythia; I know you are busy. I can't visit you, unfortunately, because none of the intelligence agencies know I'm alive. No one knows I'm alive except you two. I need it to stay that way. I can't explain why right now; I'd rather explain it in person. When you have time, after this mission, come find me. I will leave more clues for you after you finish your mission. I'm sorry I was never able to reunite myself with you, but it was too dangerous for me, especially with Scorpia. I have always loved you, though. I can't wait to see you and Yassen again. From, Hunter," I finish reading, and I look at Alex. Our eyes meet.

"Is there a date anywhere?" he asks. I look at the top of the letter; there is a date. It's July 5, 2003. That's yesterday. I silently show Alex.

"So it's confirmed. He is alive," Alex says. I feel a rush of emotion so strong, I can't help but smile. After all these years of believing he was dead…and now to find that he's alive…it's amazing. How did he survive the explosion?

"How do you think he survived?" Alex asks, voicing what I was just thinking.

"I don't know. The bomb could have been placed somewhere where it hurt him horribly, but he managed to survive," I don't think there's any point speculating; we will be meeting him soon, I hope. We sit in Alex's room for a while, enjoying each other's company. I read a few more letters. Then he turns on the TV, and we watch some cartoons.

"Is this what you do every time you come to the hospital?" I ask after a while.

"Pretty much. There's not really anything to do except read letters, books, magazines, and watch cartoons on TV. I try and avoid all the news stations; I'd rather not see what the human race thinks of the aftermath of what I've done. Usually that's what they talk about on the news, for a few days or weeks at least. How some famous person died a mysterious death and everyone is speculating how it happened. Usually I know the answer because I was there." This makes me laugh.

"Maybe we should check the news today, since you haven't really messed everything up yet." I suggest.

He turns on one of the news stations. The first thing we see is a burning building of some kind. On the bottom of the screen, it says there was an explosion at the school. The school was in Australia.

"Pythia?" I question, glancing at Alex.

"Yep. What do you think they're doing? And why? What's the point?" he asks. I shrug my shoulders. How should I know? Just then, the door opens and Mrs. Jones comes in.

"Turn on the…good you have it on. We just received a message from them. At least we believe it's from them." She walks over to the TV, and points in the corner of the picture. "There's something written there, but it's not in English. We blew it up to a larger size, and this is what we found." She hands me a blown up piece of paper with the same smudges on them. Except they aren't smudges anymore. They're words. Russian words.

"It says 'Operation Middle Ground is almost ready. There is nothing you can do to stop it.'"

"Operation Middle Ground? Is that what they're calling what they're planning?" Alex asks.

"We assume so." Mrs. Jones replies.

"We are going to try and stop them, right?" Alex asks. I look at him curiously.

"I thought you didn't want to do this?" I comment.

"I don't have a choice anymore; I've been dragged into this, so I might as well deal with it and try and help," he says defensively. I raise my hands up in surrender, suppressing a smile. This is in his blood. His whole life was spent training for this, and then he started applying that training three years ago. He's a pro at what he does.

"Alex, we will do everything we can to try and stop them, but it appears that they are going to do this—whatever it is—faster than we thought they would. If we can figure out what Middle Ground is, we might be able to figure out what they're planning," she adds.

"Well, middle ground could mean a compromise; that's how it's usually used. I don't think that's how it applies in this situation, though. Middle ground…well, it could be taken literally. In the middle of the ground. What does that mean though? What ground?" I start to speculate out loud.

"Well, they've been blowing schools up…could that mean that they're going to blow up a bunch of schools? They could put each bomb in the center of the school…" Alex says. "Maybe we're over thinking this. Maybe we should be thinking about the whole world. What's the middle of the whole world? It's a sphere…there isn't really a 'middle' on the surface. Unless they've found a way to dig all the way to the core of the Earth, they can't really get to the middle of the Earth," Alex states after a moment.

"There's only one thing all the schools have in common. They're all pretty big. And all the countries that have had explosions are allies to each other. That could be a factor. They're all pretty big, well known countries. Russia, Britain, France, Australia, and of course, America." Mrs. Jones tells us.

"This is kindov crazy, but I have an idea. What kind of cities are they targeting?" Alex asks.

"Well, the cities they're targeting are all fairly well known: Moscow, Manchester, Versailles, Sydney, and Los Angles."

"Have there been any bombings in the capital cities?" Alex asks.

"Now that you mention it, no." Mrs. Jones says, looking confused.

"I think that's what they're targeting." Alex says. "The capital cities. Where the president is, where the leaders are." Alex says.

"Why do you think that?" I ask.

"Well, schools are run by the government, right? What's the most famous government building in the whole world? Probably the White House. Maybe that's what they're targeting…the capital buildings of all the biggest nations," Alex explains. I feel a shiver pass through my whole body. If Pythia is in fact targeting the capital buildings of the biggest countries in the world…that would show the world that we're weak…we don't know how to defend ourselves…I realize that this has gone way beyond what we thought it was before. This is bigger than anything we could ever imagine, if we're right about what's going on.

"That could be devastating to the whole world…since we don't really know all that much about Pythia, we don't know what they're goal is." Mrs. Jones says.

"What kind of terrorist organization are they? Mr. Crawley said they were a terrorist group," Alex asks.

"They are like Scorpia; they come from all over the place, but from what we know about them, some of their members come from Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, North Korea, and Mexico," Mrs. Jones explains.

"So, basically all the allies enemies. Great…that means that if I'm right, they'll definitely be doing something big. Like 9/11, only on a much larger scale. And with bombs…somehow. Suicide bombers?" Alex questions.

"I don't think so. Suicide bombers would target small groups of people in enclosed spaces." I say. I look at the picture again, and something catches my eye.

"What's this?" I ask, pointing to a shape right below the writing.

"I'm not sure. We were questioning that, too. I have my laptop here, which has a picture of the place. I can see if we can clarify the image to a better quality," Mrs. Jones says, pulling out her laptop and placing it on Alex's bed. She hits a few buttons and then turns it so it's facing us. What I see sends a cold shiver down my spine. It's a scorpion, just like the one Scorpia use to use to sign their official documents.

"Scorpia." Alex says.

"It appears so. Do you think Scorpia is back?" Mrs. Jones asks.

"I think maybe Pythia _is _Scorpia. Maybe they just changed their name," I say after a moment. I'm looking at the symbol, and I see something else in the center. "Blow it up so it's closer to the scorpion." I say. She does so, and then she clarifies the image again. They're a small letter in the center of the scorpion. It's the letter P, but it looks like a snake; the curve of the "P" is the snake's body and tail, and the rest of it is its head.

"It's Pythia, but they are also Scorpia. They have a new symbol, too." Alex says. I glance at him; he looks at me with worry in his eyes. I'm pretty sure we're both thinking the same thing.

"Mrs. Jones, what's happened to Malagosto?" I ask politely.

"Well, ever since Scorpia was destroyed, it's been abandon. No one wants it because of its past," she says.

"Do you have live satellite imaging?" I ask.

"On this computer? Yes, I do." She searches for Malagosto, and when she finds it she zooms in. There are definitely people there, and it looks like they're training. The image is so clear, I can see the guns they're holding and I can see the targets their firing at.

"So…Pythia is occupying Malagosto." Mrs. Jones comments. "Just like Scorpia…I suppose I should say that Scorpia is back, because they are. The only difference is they changed their name," she adds.

"I think they wanted us to figure this out, but why?" Alex asks.

"Probably to show us that they're still around; they're still our enemies. I thought all the Scorpia people were killed or put in jail?" I say.

"They are. There must be some people out there…terrorists, who know about Scorpia and what they did. They decided to create a new Scorpia, I suppose." Mrs. Jones says.

"Mrs. Jones? I don't really want to get involved with Scorpia again." Alex says quietly.

"I know. I don't want you to get involved either. Both your father and your uncle died because of Scorpia. I don't want that happening to you or Yassen." She says.

"Are you going to send us in still? Do we have any other choice?" I ask.

"I don't know. I don't want to send you in, but I don't think they're really any other choice," Mrs. Jones sighs.

"We could do it from the outside. We've gotten this far," I comment.

"Well…I suppose we could try that for a little while. We have to hurry, though. Yassen, I think we should pull you out of training. You can stay here with Alex, if that's all right with you. He'll have to stay here until he's fully recovered, and then you'll come back to Britain. From there, we can decide what exactly to do," Mrs. Jones explains after thinking for a few moments.

"That sounds much better than having to go back to that place…" Alex shudders.

"Yes, it does." I agree. Honestly, I would rather not go back to that place. I do wonder, however, if it's changed since I was there last.

"Well, I should get back to Liverpool Street. If you figure out anything else, or if we figure out anything we'll contact you," Mrs. Jones says before leaving.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Jones," Alex says.

"Goodbye Alex, Yassen," Mrs. Jones replies. I give her a quick nod. After she closes the door behind her, Alex and I look at each other.

"We don't have to go to Malagosto," Alex says, smiling.

"And I can stay here with you instead of training," I add, also smiling.

"You'll have to get your stuff from the training camp," Alex reminds me.

"I know." I reply. I'll be glad to leave the training camp. Hawk, Cobra, and Tiger still aren't being very social with me." I'm grateful that I'm getting out of the training camp; I don't really enjoy it anymore.

I head back to the training camp, where I collect my belongings. Then I head back to the hospital. By the time I get back, it's getting dark out.

"Where am I going to sleep?" I ask suddenly.

"I...I'm not sure." Alex says. He glances over to a corner in the room; there's a chair there that could serve as a bed. The doctor walks into the room just then.

"We're moving you two to a bigger room with two beds. We hope you don't mind," he explains.

"That's fine," Alex says. Problem solved, I suppose.

Alex's bed is wheeled down the hallway and into a larger room that has another normal bed; one that isn't a hospital bed.

"Thank you," Alex says to the doctor. The doctor gives us a quick nod and then leaves the room.

"I'm glad you're staying here. I was getting lonely." Alex says. I find that a bit strange, though I'm not sure why. Alex has told me he gets bored and lonely when he's in the hospital, but I suddenly wonder if there's another reason for him to want company.

We sit and talk for a while, and then he goes to sleep. I lay down on my own bed, but as usual I doubt I'll be able to get to sleep until early in the morning. My old habit of staying up late is still with me. A few hours later, I do finally start to drift off, but I'm woken up by a sound. It takes me only a second to realize it's Alex. He's shifting around in his bed, moaning. Is his wound hurting him? Maybe I should call the doctor. I check the time; it's about 2 o'clock. I'm just about to call the doctor, when Alex gives a little scream and sits upright in his bed. He's panting and sweating, as if he's just been running. So that's why he wants company. He has nightmares. About what, though? He never has nightmares when he's at home...so why is it different here?

"Alex? Are you all right?" I ask, concerned.

He glances over to me, and he seems a little dazed at first. Then he realizes what I've just said. "Yeah, it was only a dream," he huffs.

"You wanna talk about it?" I ask gently.

"No...well...it was just a dream about...about Jack. About her dying," he explains after a moment.

"Does this happen often? Why have you never told me about it?" I say.

"No, it doesn't really happen that often. Not anymore at least. It used to happen all the time, but recently, since I started living with you, it's gone away. In the past month, though, it's slowly come back. I think it might be because whenever I feel alone, I think of her." He tells me.

"You're still morning her death," I state.

"It's more like I miss her. I'm lonely without her. Or I was, even at the Pleasures house. Then you adopted me, and I didn't feel so lonely anymore." Alex says.

"I'll always be here for you, Alex. I promise you that. And so will John, soon at least," I say, walking over to his bed. I sit down next to him, and he wraps his arms around me, hugging me. I hug him back. We stay that way for a long time; until he falls asleep. Then I return to my bed and go to sleep as well. The last thing I think about before drifting off into darkness is that John is alive, and Alex will be able to meet him soon.

**That's the end of the chapter! I'm really sorry guys, but I might not get to update for quite a while (like until June 15 to be exact) because I've been getting bad grades and my parents have connected it back to this. Sorry! That's why I'm ending it here, so that it's at a place I feel safe stopping at for a while. I'll be back soon! Maybe if I get my grade up better, they'll let me keep doing this, but for now I won't be able to. Remember to R&R! Suggestions for what might happen next are very welcome, cuz I've got a little case of writers block here.**


	5. New Car Smell

**Here's chapter 5! I'm hoping this story is really long; longer than Scorpia Hunting at least. I'm sorry all the codes that I'm creating where John communicates with Yassen and Alex are so easy to interpret, especially for them. I'm not too good at that thing; it's definitely not my strong point. If you have any ideas on how to change them so they actually make you thing a little more, I would greatly appreciate it.**

**Oh, by the way, the car that Yassen gets is actually from 2013; I've been trying to keep the dates accurate according to the books, but this is an acceptation. Sorry, I might start doing that more just because it's hard to keep doing things that happened when I was like, 2 years old.**

Chapter 5- New Car Smell

I walk over to the Royal & General Bank; Alex isn't with me today, because it's about something that's not really important to him. Someone - God knows who - ran into my car and totaled it. MI6 is giving me a new car; I don't know what kind it is, but I hope it's better than the 10 year old Honda that I had before. Mrs. Jones is waiting for me in the lobby.

"I'm very sorry this happened, Yassen. It was a freak accident; it had nothing to do with Pythia or anything else you're dealing with at the moment." she apologizes.

"It's all right, I understand," I reply. I honestly don't really care; compared to everything else that's been going on lately, this suddenly normal event is actually quite relieving.

"I wasn't sure what kind of car you wanted; I assumed it wasn't like the one you use to have. I hope you like the choice I picked; I think it's quite appropriate. I also thought Alex might like it. It's black; that was the easiest color to get; I also thought it was a good neutral color since I don't know what your preference is," Mrs. Jones continues, leading me out to the garage they have.

"That's fine; black is a good color," I reply. I wonder what kind of car it is.

When we arrive at the parking lot, I look around; there aren't very many cars here; one of them is certainly my new one. Mrs. Jones leads me around a corner, where there is only one car. She glances at me, watching my reaction. I stare at it for a moment, and then break into a huge grin. This car…it's amazing. It's a two passenger Jaguar, but not just any Jaguar. It's the car I've always wanted…how did she know about this? It's the F-Type, with a V8 S engine. It has 495 horsepower. Top speed: 186 miles per hour. It can go from 0-60 in 4.2 seconds. It's also a convertible, which isn't that safe for an assassin, but I don't want to think of that right now. It's beautiful…I love it.

"Wow…thank you. I hate to ask, but how much money was this?" I'm dreading the answer; the lowest price this car runs for is about 95 thousand dollars.

"It's all been covered. Insurance, cost, everything. If anything ever happens to this car, MI6 will pay for it," she replies.

"Can Alex and I go for a drive in it this afternoon?" I ask. Alex hasn't been outside for a few months; I think it would be nice if he could get out of the hospital for a while.

"I think that would be a great idea. You can drive back to the hospital and pick him up," she says.

I drive back to the hospital in my new car; it's wonderful. All I have to do is touch the gas and the car responds instantly; same with the steering. It drives like a gem. When Alex sees it, he says the same thing.

"Wow. Mrs. Jones certainly outdid herself this time, didn't she? It's beautiful! This is so cool!" Alex hops into the passenger seat; he looks so much better than he did a few months ago. His face is full of color, shining with joy and health. He's smiling; he looks almost back to normal. I get into the driver seat of the car, and we drive off. We don't stop anywhere; Alex and I are just driving for the fun of it.

"I think I'll be able to get out of the hospital soon. The doctor says that my leg is almost fully healed again," Alex says after we've been driving for about 5 minutes.

"That's good, except for the fact that MI6 might want to send us into Pythia," I reply. I dread that; it's not just because it's dangerous for me, it's because it's dangerous for Alex.

"Mrs. Jones still thinks that we could do it from the outside; we've done so much already without even going inside…we could still do it," he replies.

"We know a little bit about what they're planning, but we don't know when. And we don't know how to stop them. If what we suspect their planning, to bomb the capital cities of the biggest nations, how would we even stop them from doing that?" He doesn't respond, he's looking off into the distance, thinking. I decide to change the subject since neither of us have an answer to my question.

"The nightmares you have…when did they start? Was it after…you know?" I trail off, not wanting to mention Jack's death again, though technically I already have.

"The nightmares about her started after she died, yes. There were others that happened before that though. At first, it was about my missions, how Ian died, missions that I could do in the future, that kind of thing. After I went to Malagosto, those memories started haunting me in my dreams too. A lot of times it's about how I almost died in my missions. Before Jack died, it was about how she could die. Those dreams have gone away. Now most of those dreams are replaced by other dreams. Such as…sometimes I dream about how you could die," he says. I glance at him, concerned. It's not so surprising that he has nightmares; even I have nightmares sometimes, mostly about my missions from a long time ago. I've had a few nightmares about Alex dying, too, though. Recently, I've had nightmares about how he almost died in the forest. I don't think anyone who's in the kind of work we're in survives the mission and doesn't have nightmares about it. It eventually becomes a part of life; it might not be pleasant, but most of the time it's there and there's nothing to be done about it.

"Everyone who's in this business has those kinds of dreams. I used to have dreams about John dying," I tell him. He nods. He understands that because the same thing happened to him.

"I remember the first time I came to Malagosto. I was all alone; I found Scorpia through a contact they had in the Russian Mafia. I remember how alone I felt; I didn't trust anyone, even after I had been there for a while. Then they introduced me to John when I started training there. He was the first person I really trusted, even a little bit, since my parents died. By the time they were sending us on missions, I trusted him with my life," I say after a few moments of silence.

"Do you remember when you kidnapped me two years ago?" he asks, smiling with amusement. I smile back.

"Of course I remember! How could I forget that?" I exclaim.

"I didn't trust you at all. I hated you, in fact. For killing Ian, being alive, sending me to Scorpia…" he trails off.

"Sending you to Scorpia was a mistake, but it was only because I believed that you're father was working for them. It was useful having us both be familiar with them, though, even though I admit it's cost you a great deal of pain and suffering," I tell him. He nods; he understands why I did it now, and he knows that the knowledge he has of them has helped us with the mission we're on right now.

"Then we went to your home and Scorpia somehow found us. They could have killed you, but you risked your life for me anyway," he continues.

I remember that; I remember how when we were in the garage and the Scorpia agent came in and shot at Alex, I hadn't even thought about it; I'd just reacted by jumping in front of him to protect him.

"I would do it again if I had to," I say quietly.

"I'd do that too," he says.

It still amazes me how far our relationship has come. He did hate me before I saved his life. Afterward, though, he realized there was no choice but to trust me, and eventually he did trust me for real.

"What do you think John will be like? Do you think he'll be the same person you knew?" Alex asks.

"I'm not sure. I think in some aspects he will be, but obviously because I know that he was working with MI6 instead of Scorpia, I think he might be a little bit more open to discuss it," I reply after a moment of thought.

"What was something he would always do that you think you could recognize?" Alex asks. I know exactly what he's asking. There are plenty of things Alex does that I would recognize anywhere, like how, even in the face of death; he is always confident and defiant.

"Well, he was so much like you…even when we were facing a bad situation, like in the Amazon jungle, he would always be so…calm. He always knew what to do; he hardly ever hesitated. Whenever I started getting sad about something; like when I would think about my parents, he would always find a way to cheer me up," I tell him.

"I'm just curious, are there any bad memories you have of him?" Alex asks.

"Bad memories of John…well, there is one, but…" I trail off, remembering it.

"Is it where he dies on AlbertBridge?" Alex asks.

"No, it's not that one. I wasn't counting those memories. It's just that, well…" I trail off again, not sure how to say this.

"If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to," he says.

"No, it's not that. It's just that it's a bad memory, but at the same time, it's a good memory," I say, laughing. Almost all the memories that would classify as bad memories are good memories because John would always make them turn into something good.

"Well, what is it then?" he asks impatiently.

"Well, there was a mission we were suppose to go on, but at the last minute Scorpia chose someone else to go on the mission, and they failed it miserably. I was mad because I hadn't been able to go, and they had failed the mission. I knew John and I would have been able to succeed, and I was pissed because we hadn't been sent on the mission. I was yelling at John because he was the only one there to yell at. I never did that; I would never have dreamed of yelling at him; he was my father after all. But that night, I was yelling at him. Instead of getting mad back, though, he just came over and wrapped his arms around me. I tried to make him let me go because I wanted to continue being mad at him; you know how it is sometimes. He just held on to me tighter though, petting my hair, telling me to calm down. Eventually I did, and we just sat there, like you and I do sometimes, hugging each other," I finish.

"No wonder you're so good at comforting me whenever I'm distressed; you get it from John," Alex marvels.

"Yes, I suppose I do," I reply.

"So where exactly are we going?" Alex asks. We've been driving for about an hour now, and we still haven't gone anywhere.

"I don't know. We're just driving to drive I think," I reply, smiling at him. He smiles back, and we continue driving.

"Do you have a middle name?" he asks randomly, breaking the silence.

I laugh. "What kind of question is that?" I ask, giving him a sideways glance.

He shrugs and says, "A stupid one? I'm just curious," he adds. Boy, the things this kid does sometimes…

"All right, I'll answer your question. Yes, I have a middle name," I say. I leave it at that, knowing that Alex will be irked that I didn't tell him what it was.

"Well?" he says after a second. I give him a questioning glance.

"What is it?!" he exclaims, exasperated. He knows I'm just messing with him.

"Serge," I reply with a smile. No one knows that about me; not even John. Only Alex would be curious enough and creative enough to come up with a question like that. I glance at him to see what his reaction is. He catches me looking at him but I don't care. I want to know what's going through his mind.

"How many other people know that?" he asks finally.

"No one else knows that. It never really seemed important. Not even John knows that," I reply. He nods slowly.

"Thank you for telling me. I was just curious but…it means a lot to me that you would tell me something that you haven't even told my father," Alex says sincerely. This makes me realize just how special our relationship is. We've both grown to trust each other so much, even with little things like this.

Eventually, he says he's hungry, so we drive to a McDonalds and get some food. Alex is surprised when I order it to-go; the car MI6 gave me might be band new, but that doesn't mean it can't be cleaned every now and then. Both Alex and I get Big Macs with everything on them, and we get one large milkshake, which we share. We sit in my car, not driving but just eating. After we finish eating, we decide to head back to the hospital. He doesn't want to go back, and neither do I to be honest, but we both know that he only has a few more weeks before he will be released. I remember how as soon as I was healthy enough, I ran away from the hospital after I got shot by Cray. Eventually, we decide that there's no choice but to go back; it's getting late and the sun is starting to go down. When we get back to the hospital, Alex lies down on his bed and finds something underneath his pillow. It's a piece of paper. He opens it; it's a note.

"'Dear Alex and Yassen, I know all about the mission you're doing, and I think I know when Scorpia (you surely know that Pythia is Scorpia by now) is planning on starting their operation. I'm not certain I'm correct, but if I am, then this is vital information. I'm not sure how you will relay this to MI6 without revealing the fact that I'm alive, but I hope you will try. If there is no choice but to reveal my identity, I will understand. I believe that since Scorpia is a terrorist organization, they will attack on a day that is supposed to be peaceful, such as September 11. That is when they will attack. I also believe they will start by attacking the US. I'm sorry I can't tell you how I got this information, it's much to dangerous.' It's not signed," Alex finishes. I feel a prickle of fear go down my spine.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" I say.

"Probably," he replies, looking at me, his eyes filled with worry. We both know that John wrote the letter, who else would?

"You think he's working for Scorpia as a double agent again, don't you?" Alex asks.

"Yeah, except this time MI6 isn't there to support him," I reply, feeling fear make my heart heavy.

"Why? Why would he do that?" Alex asks, bewildered and sounding scared.

"He cares about his country. He must have found out Scorpia was back. He must have been trying to take them down for a long time to risk his life for this," I comment. I realize that there has to be some reason for him to do this. I know that even Alex wouldn't do something like this without a good reason.

"There must be something more than that!" Alex exclaims incredulously.

"You're right, there has to be something more than just that. There's something more than just him being a patriot," I add.

"What could possibly be more important than his life? What would be so important to him that he would risk his life; go out all alone, to destroy Scorpia again?" Alex says. I'm quiet for a long time. He doesn't interrupt my thinking. If John has gone into Scorpia again; if he is working as a double agent, whom I know he is, what would be his motive? I reach only one conclusion.

"It's because of you, Alex," I say finally.

"What do you mean?" Alex asks, looking at me in bewilderment. I see a slight flicker of shock cross his face.

"I think he knows about your missions with Scorpia. I think he knows the pain you've been through; I think he's trying to take down Scorpia because you have suffered greatly because of them. I think he might also be doing this because he's protecting you," I tell him.

"He…he's protecting me? I suppose that makes sense," he says hesitantly. I know that he's flattered that John would do that for him; he's only beginning to realize how much John truly loves him. So am I, I guess. They haven't seen each other in 16 years, but John will still go to the ends of the earth just to protect Alex. To be honest, I would do that as well. I have done that before.

"If MI6 destroys Pythia, doesn't that mean that they'll try and capture or kill all its members, just like last time? That would mean that he would die or go to jail, or he would have to tell MI6 who he really was," Alex points out.

"Or, he would disappear without a trace. If I were in his situation, that's what I would do," I point out.

Alex thinks about this for a minute, and then finally says, "I'm sure he knows what he's doing,"

"I'm sure he does. If he wanted MI6 to know he was alive, he would have made his appearance long before now. He's been in hiding for a long time. We don't know why, but whatever the reason, I know that he knows exactly what he's doing," I tell him. "John has a plan, and I think a lot of that plan has to do with keeping you safe. I honestly don't think he ever wanted you to enter the same world he's in; when he told me you were born, he told me he wanted out of Scorpia because he wanted to take care of you and not have to deal with the risk of dying all the time. He wanted a normal life for you," I tell Alex, remembering what John told me 16 years ago, right before he supposedly died.

Alex opens his mouth to respond, but it turns into a yawn. I smile in amusement, and he smiles back, slightly embarrassed.

"Tired?" I ask knowingly. I glance at the clock; it's almost 10 o'clock.

"Yeah, I'm pretty tired. I bet you aren't, though," he teases; my old habit of staying up till early in the morning is still with me. I smile back at him, giving him a small shove.

"We should start planning how to tell Mrs. Jones about the note from John. Of course we won't tell her we found out through a note; we'll have to figure out something else," Alex says.

"We'll do that in the morning. For now, you should get some sleep," I reply as he yawns again.

"Goodnight, Yassen," he says.

"Goodnight, Alex," I reply. I walk over and ruffle his hair a little bit, he smiles and does the same to me, except it doesn't work because my hair isn't long enough. We smile at each other, and then Alex lies down in his bed, handing me the note to put somewhere safe, which I do. All the notes from John are in my wallet with the first one, right behind my driver's license. After a while, I realize Alex is asleep; I can hear his soft breathing from the other side of the room. I remember how a few nights ago, he woke me up with his nightmares. I stay up and watch him sleeping for a while. He sleeps peacefully. Eventually, I begin to get tired, and I lay down and go to sleep. The last thing I think of before I fall asleep is how we're going to be taking a trip to the Royal & General Bank tomorrow to tell Mrs. Jones about what John told us.

The next morning, I wake up early, as usual. I go to sleep late and I wake up early. I glance over at Alex; he's still sleeping soundly. I sit in bed, thinking about how we could tell Mrs. Jones about the information we've learned without having to tell her about the note and John. Of course, we could tell her that we thought of it ourselves; that would be the easiest solution. But would we be able to convince her that we figured out September 11 was the date it would happen? It makes since, of course, because in the US that's when the terrorist attack happened. It is coming up; it will be next month, in fact. That doesn't give us much time to try and stop them from attacking the capital city. How would we stop them in the first place? I'm sure we'll discuss this all with Mrs. Jones, so I decide to not think about it anymore until we've talked to her.

I hear the rustling of sheets and I glance over to Alex's bed; he's getting up. I glance at the clock; it's about 10 o'clock. He slept in quite late, but I know he needs his rest.

"Morning," I greet him. He blinks, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Morning," he replies, sounding fully alert. I know that any normal teenager his age would probably take a long time to get up, but if I woke him up at 2 in the morning and told him we needed to move, he would be up and alert in about 30 seconds. I know from experience that both MI6 and Scorpia would have trained him to do this. As soon as he gets up, he has to be ready and alert for whatever is happening around him.

"Let's eat breakfast, and then we'll head over to the Royal & General Bank," I say. We walk over to the cafeteria, but today neither Alex nor I feel like eating hospital food. We decide to go to McDonalds and pick up a breakfast burger. The doctor is fine with that; in fact, he thinks it's good that Alex is able to get up and go about his life like a normal person now; he's almost fully healed. When we get to McDonalds, I'm surprised when Alex orders a large shake.

"A milkshake? This early in the morning?" I ask him.

"What? I like milkshakes!" he says indignantly. "We can share," he adds in a sing-song voice. I give him a wry smile and a light punch on the arm.

"Well, if you put it that way I suppose…" I reply. We eat in my car again, and afterward we drive over to the Bank. When we arrive, I hesitate, though I don't show it. I just let Alex lead; he's the one who's familiar with this place. It turns out we don't have to do anything, because Mrs. Jones comes down a moment later and meets us. I give Alex a confused look.

"Security cameras," he explains. Of course, I should have guessed that they had security cameras watching this place 24/7; it's MI6 headquarters, after all.

"What can I do for you? Did you find any more information?" she asks.

"Yes, we've figured out something else," Alex says, choosing his words carefully.

"Come up to my office then. I'm afraid you'll have to wait for about 10 minutes, I'm a bit busy; I'm in a meeting. It's just wrapping up, though, so I'll be in shortly. Alex, don't try anything; remember there are security cameras covering every square-inch of this place." Mrs. Jones reminds him, smiling slightly. I assume she's referring to the time Blunt left Alex in this room alone and he jumped across the roof to get to his uncles office. Alex gives a sheepish smile, and mutters something about being curious.

"Sometimes I think you're too curious for your own good," Mrs. Jones sighs.

"If I hadn't been curious, I probably never would have stopped Cray," Alex points out.

Mrs. Jones sighs, glancing at me and rolling her eyes. I smile knowingly; he can be difficult sometimes.

"Well, I'll be back in a few minutes. Yassen, watch him," she says.

I give her a small salute, and she leaves.

After she lives, Alex and I sit down in the chairs next to her desk. I start to stare at Alex intently, waiting for him to notice. He glances at me out of the corner of his eye; and finally he speaks.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" he asks.

"Mrs. Jones told me to watch you, so I am," I say, a playful smile slowly crossing my face. He laughs and smiles back. Now he gets it. I'm just messing with him. He glances around her office, and then glances up at where I assume there's supposed to be a hidden camera. Alex stands up and walks around the room, examining things. He walks over to a small bin labeled "trash" and looks at the file on top. He picks it up and walks back over to his chair and sits down.

"Alex, I don't think snooping is such a good idea," I say.

"No, look," he says, holding the file up for me to see. On it is the name Julius Grief. I realize now why he's snooping.

"I still don't think that's such a good idea," I say weakly, trying to make him put the file down. I'll admit, because it's concerning Julius, it is his business, but I still don't think it's such a good idea to be looking through something that also has the word "Classified" stamped in red across the front.

"I'll put it back. I'm a spy, Yassen. I'm trained to do things like this," he says.

"They'll see you. There's a camera," I say.

"So? Mrs. Jones will understand," he says. I can tell that there's no way I'm going to talk him out of this. He opens the file to the first page. I can't help but feel on edge; this is the sort of thing I get nervous about. Alex glances at me, sensing the change in me.

"Relax. I don't care if Mrs. Jones catches me. I deserve to know about him. Most of this information is probably old news anyway," he says, but I can tell he's lying. He doesn't know all that much about Julius Grief, and he wants to find out as much as he can.

He flips through the pages, until he comes upon a page with a picture on it. It's of Julius, walking out of some school all alone. He looks so much like Alex; I feel an icy claw of fear go down my back at seeing a perfect copy of him walking around in a totally different world. Alex flips a few more pages, and then he stops suddenly. He slowly flips back to the previous page. I feel my heart freeze; I don't recognize the picture, but I know what it's of. It's a car, but it's only a blackened skeleton. Alex has told me the basics of how Jack died; he said that Julius blew up a car she was driving in; she was escaping to try and get help. I suspect that this is the car he was talking about.

"This car…this is sometimes the center of my nightmares. Sometimes…I'm inside the car. Instead of Jack dying, it's me who's blown up. Sometimes the dream is of me watching her, listening to her dying. She's always screaming for my help…and I can always hear Julius' horrible laughter in the background," he says quietly. He's staring at the car, tears forming in his eyes. I reach out and touch him on the shoulder. He looks at me; there are tears streaming down his face.

He closes the file, stands up, walks over to the bin, and drops it in again. He glowers at it for a moment, and then he walks back over and takes a seat next to me again.

"I wish we could burn it," he mutters, sniffing. There are still tears dripping off his face; I'm not sure what to do. In these situations, there's usually nothing I can do about him crying; his pain is so great that nothing comforts him.

"Sometimes I dream that Julius is torturing me. Sometimes, I dream that he's torturing her. I wish I had dreams where we were torturing him," Alex says bitterly, looking at me. His eyes are filled with pain and sadness; it almost makes me want to cry myself. Suddenly, the door opens and Mrs. Jones walks in. The room is so silent, and everything has been so still that I jump. Immediately, I curse myself silently. I should have been prepared for that! I'm mad at myself, and embarrassed beyond belief. Imagine; I'm supposed to be the best assassin in the world, and I jumped because the stupid door opened! I glance at Alex, wondering if he saw me jump. He's staring at me and I know that he did. I give a sheepish grin, and suddenly I find myself hoping that he will break into a smile of his own. He doesn't, though; he simply whips the tears off his face and glances at Mrs. Jones. If he weren't so sad, I know he would be mocking me right now. I almost wish he would; at least it would be better than him being depressed and angry.

Mrs. Jones can tell something is wrong with Alex too, because she glances at me curiously. I raise my eyebrows at her, wondering if there's any way to cheer him up.

"Did I scare you, Yassen?" she asks, smiling.

"No, it was just…instinct," I say, though I don't sound very convincing. I'm hoping Alex will make some sarcastic comment about that. I glance at him, waiting for him to speak; nothing.

"What were you looking at while I was gone?" Mrs. Jones asks. I shake my head; no! It's too late though; Alex's eyes become distant, and then he starts crying again. Mrs. Jones looks at me in surprise and shock.

"He found the file on Julius Grief. I tried to stop him from reading it, not because I thought it would hurt him at first but because I thought it was bad that he was snooping," I explain quietly. She glances over at where the file is, and suddenly she understands.

"That file should have been destroyed months ago; I don't know why it was still here," she says. She glances at Alex helplessly; there's not really much we can do for the crying boy.

I walk over to him and I kneel down next to him. "Alex…come on, Alex, stop crying. Please? Come on…Alex…" I trail off; I don't know what to do. There doesn't seem to be anything I can do that will comfort or help him right now.

"Alex, I'm sorry you had to find that file. I'm sorry you had to see everything that was inside. You've seen it now, though, and there's nothing we can do about it. I know you're still haunted by Jack's death, but we need to move on right now. You and Yassen are here for a reason; I'd like to know what you've found," she says. I know she's trying to be nice; she doesn't know how to act in this situation either.

"I'm all right," Alex says finally, after whipping his face and calming himself down a little. He glances at me and gives me a brave smile.

"Good. Now, why are you two here? Have you found something?" she asks.

"We think we might have. We were thinking about it, and we were trying to figure out when they might attack. Obviously, they could just choose a random date. But I think they would chose something that would be significant to the whole world. The only day that I can figure out that would make an impact on people would be September 11. If I'm correct, then we assume they'll attack the United States first. It makes sense." I explain. I'm hoping she believes us; if she doesn't, I have another plan, but it's not nearly as strong as this one.

"You figured this entire thing out by yourselves?" Mrs. Jones asks.

"Well, we have both worked for Scorpia before; we know how they think. This is the kind of thing they would come up with," I reply.

Mrs. Jones looks at Alex. "Did you figure any of this out?" she asks.

"I thought they would be attacking the US," Alex says without missing a beat. "Yassen did most of the work though. I think we should start calling him Sherlock Holmes," Alex teases, though I can tell he's only faking it.

"I think this information could be vital to catching Pythia. If you two are correct, then we don't have that much time to figure out how to take them down. We need to stop there plan right here, right now, though. We can't just stop this one incident from happening. They'll keep trying to succeed with their other missions. We have to stop them so that they can't continue with their mission," Mrs. Jones says.

"How? We don't even know how their planning this attack. It could be like the 9/11 attack, with airplanes, or it could be with bombs," Alex exclaims.

"Well, I think we've confirmed that it will be bombs. That's what they've been using so far," Mrs. Jones says.

"I don't think so. I think they would try and make it as similar to the 9/11 attack as possible. That sounds more like the Scorpia I know. That means that they'll probably want to do the same thing for the other countries. Recreate a tragic event that happened in that country's history, but on a much larger scale," I say after thinking for a few seconds.

"I think Yassen's right. That does seem more like Scorpia; they like to do things that are complex. It's harder for people to figure out what they're up to, until it's too late," Alex says.

"We have figured out what they're doing, though. At least, we thing we have," I reply.

"I think…maybe it would be best if we tried to do this from a removed point of view. I think Pythia is just as dangerous - maybe even more dangerous - then Scorpia was," Mrs. Jones says slowly. I feel a weight lift from my chest; good, now it's confirmed that we won't have to go in to the organization.

"Good. I don't want to ever get involved with them again," Alex says. I can tell he's recovered from seeing the file on Julius, but now his sadness is being replaced by anger. At least he's directing it at Scorpia instead of us.

"Well, I'll try and figure out more information about your idea. You can go now. Thank you for your help," Mrs. Jones says.

We leave her office, and we head back to the hospital. There are only a few more nights where we have to live there, and then we can go back home. I think both Alex and I are relieved; we're both getting fed up of having to stick around the hospital.

When we get back to the hospital, we go to our room; what else are we supposed to do? Alex sits down on his bed, and he starts staring off into space. I read quietly for a little while, and then I sense that Alex is watching me. I glance over at him; he's staring at me, his eyes filled with sadness.

"What's up?" I ask.

Alex shakes his head as if to say "I don't know." I stand up and walk over to his bed; he's been sitting on the edge of his bed for a while now, just staring off into space. I sit down next to him and put my arm around his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze.

"I hate it," he mutters.

"Hate what?" I ask, although I can guess what he's referring to.

"I hate Scorpia; I hate Julius. I hate being a spy! I never wanted this life; I wish Ian had never trained me to be like this; I don't want to do this. I want to be normal!" he says, his voice rising as he speaks.

"I know. Honestly, I don't want this either. I want all the government agencies to leave us alone so we can have a normal life. Think about it, though. I know this isn't going to help you very much, but if you had never gotten involved in all this, you would never have met me. We probably wouldn't be here right now. Think about the life we have right now. We've had so much fun together; wouldn't you miss that if it went away?" I say, choosing my words carefully.

"Yes…I would miss that, but…it could go away; you could die and then all of that would be taken away from me," Alex says, his eyes shining with tears. Please don't cry again! I don't know what I would do if he started crying again.

"You could die, too remember. You did almost die," I point out. "Listen. After this mission…remember our promise? We're still going to keep that promise, after we find John. We're never going to come back to this world. We promised that to each other before, and I still plan on keeping that promise," I say with confidence.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak. He swallows and says, "All right." his voice cracks slightly.

"Think about what it will be like when you finally get to meet John; I can't wait to see him again," I say.

Alex glances at me and nods again. A single tear runs down his face. I hold him closer to me, trying to comfort him. He starts to cry quietly. I continue holding him; we stay like that for hours. Eventually, he stops crying, but I stay with him wrapped in my arms until he falls asleep. I look at the clock; it's about midnight. I slowly ease Alex back into his bed, and I tuck him in. He doesn't wake up; he doesn't even stir. I give him a light kiss on his forehead, and then I walk over to my bed. I lay down under the covers, but I know I'm not going to get any sleep until probably 2 o'clock. Sure enough, at around 2 I start to drift off, but I'm suddenly woken up by a sound. It takes me a few seconds to register what it is. It's Alex; he's moaning and whimpering; thrashing around in his bed. He's having a nightmare. I walk over to his bed and sit down. I don't want to wake him up, but I want to somehow comfort him.

"Shhh, Alex, it's all right," I sooth, lightly brushing his hair away from his face. Almost instantly, he stops thrashing around and moaning. I can't believe it worked, but it did. I sit there for about half an hour, just to make sure he's all right. Then I go back to bed and try to fall asleep. It's been a long day, and I'm exhausted. Right before I fall asleep, I look at Alex one more time to make sure he's all right. He's sleeping peacefully, his chest rising and falling rhythmically with each breath. I'm worried about him; right before I drift off into unconsciousness, I wonder if seeing the file on Julius had anything to do with his nightmare tonight. Seeing that file definitely reawaked something in him; it probably brought back the traumatic events that happened on that night. Poor Alex; I wish there was some way, something I could do to help him, but I know it's useless. Once you live through something like that, there's no way to forget it. I've learned that many times in my life. All you can do is push it to the farthest corner of your mind, lock it away, try and not thing about it, and move on in life. Unfortunately, that's harder than it sounds, especially for someone Alex's age. I sigh, wishing that I could change the past without changing the present. I love the life we have, but Alex is right. Sometimes I wish I could take away all the traumatic events he's been through; Scorpia, Jack's death, all of it, and just keep the good parts of his life there. I wish I could change the past, but I can't. All I can do for him is simply be there; sometimes, though, that's not enough. When something like this happens in someone's life, nothing is enough. I know what kind of pain Alex is going through; I experienced the same thing when I thought John died, and again when I thought Alex was dead. Somehow, I was able to get past it. At that moment in time, though, it felt like the world was ending; nothing, not even my own life, mattered. I know that that's exactly what Alex felt when Jack died, and I'm pretty sure that's how he felt today, when he saw the picture of that burned-out car.

**That's the end of chapter 5! I know it's really angst-y but that's the way it's supposed to be. I hope you liked the funny parts I added in. Hopefully I will be updating a lot more now; I'm finally on summer break!**

**I would like to thank 32-star for inspiring me; the concept of Yassen being able to sooth Alex when he is having a nightmare came from one of her stories, so thank you very much for letting me use this idea, 32-star! You rock!**


	6. Rider, John Rider

**Chapter 6 (Wow, there are only 6 chapters) is here! There will be a third book; it's official.**

Chapter 6- Rider, John Rider

Alex is finally being released from the hospital. I feel every muscle in my body tense; I hadn't realized I relaxed until now. I'm glad I'm in control again; being stuck in the hospital for months made me relax. Alex has been there for three months, and today is the day we're going home. All the nurses and doctors cheer as we walk out of the hospital into the parking lot. I get into my car like any normal human would, by opening the door and climbing in. Alex, on the other hand, jumps right over the door and lands in the shotgun seat next to me.

"What? I gotta have a little fun. I'm finally free today!" he exclaims, seeing me staring at him. "And anyway, the Jag doesn't mind, do ya?" he asks the car, patting the smooth leather seats. He's started calling the car the Jag recently, and the name has somehow stuck. As we drive toward our home, I can't help but feel uneasy. I feel like we're being followed. I glance in the rearview mirror and memorize the cars that are around us.

"Gray Ferrari," Alex says.

"So we are being followed then?" I ask. I'm surprised he picked up on it sooner than me.

"Yeah," he replies simply. Great, now we have to lose them somehow.

"Parking garage," Alex suggests, knowing what I'm thinking.

"What you want me to ditch the Jag?" I ask, shocked. There's no way I'm ditching my car!

"No, we can find one that's crowded and lose them there," he explains. Now I'm catching on. I drive into a busy parking garage and drive up a ramp to the second level. As we drive up, it gets lighter. I turn a corner and see someone pull in front of the person who's tailing us. Perfect. There are three rows of cars here, so I drive two rows over and drive into a parking spot right in the center. I turn the engine off and watch as the person tailing us slowly rounds the corner. The smell of gasoline hangs heavily in the air. Just as I think we're going to be caught, someone drives into the parking space behind us, shielding us. The gray Ferrari drives right past. He drives up to the next level, and that's when we make our move. I drive out of the parking garage and leave quickly, taking a winding road back home just in case.

"Well that was fun," Alex says as we pull into the garage at home. I breathe in the scent of oil; the smell of my garage is familiar.

"Yeah, I don't like being tailed right after you get out of the hospital. It makes me jumpy," I say, hiding my emotions carefully. In reality, I'm scared; who would be following us right after Alex got out of the hospital? Could it be those men who shot him, trying to finish the job? I'm also annoyed that Alex caught the tail before I did. It just goes to show I'm losing my touch.

"Nervous? That's the understatement of the century. You're so nervous about to jump off a cliff," Alex says, laughing at me. We walk inside the house and it looks exactly the same as when we left. It's bright because of the white walls and carpet. It feels like it's been years since I was here last. I walk onto the carpet; it's soft underneath my feet.

"I'm not showing any emotion at the moment, so how would you know?" I ask, even more annoyed.

"I know you too well, that's how," Alex replies. I roll my eyes at him, but I'm smiling.

"Something's wrong," Alex says. He glances around, and then starts walking around. I realize he's right; something feels off.

"Someone's been here since we left," Alex says. I have to agree; there's something different about the house, but I'm not sure what. Alex walks into the living room and picks up on what's wrong first.

"Yassen, come here," he calls. I walk into the living room, wondering what he's found. He's standing next to the coffee table in the center of the room. I stare at it for a second, and then I glance at him and raise my eyebrows.

"It's clean. There's no dust on it," Alex says. Of course! I can't believe I didn't pick up on it instantly. That's what's off; the whole house is…clean. There's no dust anywhere. There should be dust because it hasn't been cleaned in several months. I realize now that the smell of stale air isn't there; instead, it's a clean scent; the house has been cleaned recently.

"That means someone's been here recently," I say.

"No! That's what I just said!" Alex exclaims sarcastically. I furrow my brow. "You think they planted bugs?" Alex asks, serious now.

"It depends on who 'they' are," I reply. On a whim, I walk into my bedroom through the bathroom; and glance around. The wood floor underneath my feet is surprisingly warm compared to the cool linoleum floor. It looks exactly like it was when we left. Alex comes in behind me and starts walking around. He goes over to the lamp next to my bed and flicks it on. Instantly, the room goes from dark to bright; I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment. Alex blows at the top of the lamp and frowns when nothing happens. I assume he was waiting for dust to come off, but there's no dust there. It's been cleaned recently, just like the rest of the house. Alex glances at the bed, and I can tell that he just had a very important thought. He removed the pillows from my bed; there's a neatly folded note underneath them.

"Smart," I say, impressed. He glances at me and raises his eyebrows. I nod to the note, indicating he should read it.

He unfolds it but he doesn't read it out loud, he just looks at it and then hands it to me. The paper is smooth in my hands; I glance at it. There's not much there. All it says is, "Sorry for intruding, but I thought you'd appreciate it if your house was clean when you and Alex returned. Hunter," So, John knows where we live, and it's obvious he still loves me. When I went on my first solo mission, he kept my bedroom tidy so when I came home, it was just as I had left it. I smile, remembering those happy times with him. Alex glances at me, curious as to what I'm smiling at, so I explain it to him.

"You guys are so similar. You get a lot from him," Alex comments after thinking about it for a moment.

I smile and laugh. "I suppose I do get a lot from him. He was my father, after all," I reply.

"Why did he use the name Hunter instead of John?" Alex asks suddenly.

"Probably because he feels like it; it's just something he does often," I reply. I know John well enough to know he won't put his real name on paper unless it's very important.

"You guys are lucky, you have cool code names. My code name? Cub? I can't sign anything with that! It would look stupid if I did." Alex says, sighing.

"Well, after this mission, hopefully you'll never have to hear that name again," I say. He nods, agreeing.

"What if they find out John is working with us?" Alex says.

"Alex…you know what'll happen," I say. I don't want to think about that possibility.

"Sorry, I just…" he trails off, looking at me with sadness in his eyes.

"I know. I've thought of it as well. If it happens…it happens. He's careful though, especially since that almost happened before," I tell him.

He sighs. "I wish I could just protect everyone I know. Pythia needs to be destroyed." he says.

"And unfortunate as it is, it looks like we're the ones who are going to do it," I reply. There's a pause; there's something bothering me; a fear that I don't want to think about or voice. What if John is lying? What if he's really working for Pythia and just pretending to help us so he can get information about what we're planning. How would he have gotten the information about where we live and everything? I hate how this thought enters my mind. It shouldn't be there; I don't want to doubt his loyalty, but my old instincts, things he taught me, come back. Question everything. Doubt. Never trust any information unless it can be verified somehow. All these thoughts rush into my head. Suddenly, I'm thrown into the present.

"Yassen! Hello, you there?" Alex is speaking to me, waving his hand in front of my face. I shake my head, trying to clear it.

"Yeah, sorry. What did you say?" I ask.

"I asked what you were thinking about," he says.

"I…" should I tell him? Of course I should, we tell each other everything. "What if John's lying? What if he's really working for Pythia, and he's using us to get information? We made the assumption that we could trust him, but can we?" I say.

He looks at me, a look of pain and confusion crossing his face. "He wouldn't do that," he says evenly.

"How do you know? It's been fifteen years since we saw him last; people change, Alex. Especially when given that much time," I hate to disappoint him like this, but it's true.

"All right. So let's say he was working for Pythia. Why would he be giving us valuable information about their plans?" Alex asks.

"He could be lying. It could be a trap," I reply instantly.

"What information has he gotten from us then?" Alex says. I have to think about this. Has he gotten any information from us, or has he been giving us all the information?

"He hasn't gotten anything from us," I reply finally.

"All right then. What does that tell you? He's probably not working for them, is he?" Alex says, sounding pleased to have reached this conclusion. I can't help marveling at his deductive reasoning.

"No, you're probably right," I say. I'm glad we reached that conclusion.

"Did he teach you that? To question everything, even if you're certain of the conclusion you'll reach?" Alex asks.

"Yes, he did teach me that," I reply. He taught me well, I suppose. The fact that I'm questioning my own mentor shows that much.

"Do you think he's listening to us right now?" Alex asks. I'm about to tell him he's crazy; why would John spy on his own friends? Then I realize that saying that is something Alex would do; I would do that if I were John, even if I was working for the same side. Gosh, I'm turning into Alex!

"Yes, probably. That's what I would do, even if I was working for the same side. It's always good to know what you're friends are thinking and planning to do, just in case they decide to do something that would compromise you or the operation." I reply. I can tell by the expression on Alex's face that he thinks that's a bit creepy. I agree, but sometimes you have to be paranoid to be safe.

"Can I ask you something?" he asks.

"You just did, but go ahead," I say. There I go again, sounding like Alex! Alex catches it too because he raises his eyebrows at me. I shrug innocently; he's beginning to wear off on me, I suppose.

"We know when Pythia is planning their little mission, but we have no idea how to stop it. Do you think John has an idea for how to stop it?" he asks.

"I believe he does. We don't even know how it's going to be accomplished, though. You have to remember that as well." I'm about to continue when the doorbell rings. Alex and I look at each other. I grab the gun from under my pillow. The cool metallic grip feels familiar in my hand. It gives me comfort to have an object that I know can protect me at my side. I check to make sure it's loaded. Alex pulls out a knife from his pocket and flicks it open.

"Where'd you get that?" I ask, surprised. Since when did he have a knife with him?

"I might have stolen it from you. Safety precaution," he says. He doesn't even sound guilty; in fact, he looks quite proud of himself. I roll my eyes and he smiles. He knows I'm secretly proud of him for being able to do something like that.

I walk over to the door and look out the window. I see a man with sunglasses and a baseball hat on. Slowly, I open the door.

"Who are you?" I say warily. I don't show him the gun, and I make sure that there's only a small gap between the door and the door frame, just in case.

He removes his glasses and hat, showing his face. He looks a lot older than last time I saw him, but I know who it is instantly. I beckon him inside quickly. I open the door and let him pass, then glance around outside to make sure no one saw him come inside. I close the door and lock it behind him. Alex is watching him cautiously; his hand is behind his back and I know the knife is in it, ready to be used.

"He's a friend. You can put the knife away," I say putting the gun in my back pocket to show him it's all right.

"Who is he?" Alex asks, closing the knife and pocketing it. The man steps forward so he's standing next to me.

"John Rider," he says, holding out his hand toward Alex.

"You…you're…you're my dad?" Alex asks, shocked. John smiles and nods. Alex stands there for a moment, looking at his father in awe. Then he steps forward, but he hesitates, unsure of what to do. John gives him a kind smile, and Alex comes over to him and gives him a big hug. There are tears of joy streaming down his face. They stay like that for a long time, and then John turns to me.

"Yassen, my other son," he says, and I notice his eyes are shining with tears. I realize mine are too. He gives me a big bear hug; he's just as strong as I remember. Finally, he pushes me away.

"You've grown a lot since I last saw you," he comments. He glances at Alex. "So have you, Alex,"

"Obviously," Alex exclaims sarcastically before he can stop himself. His cheeks turn red, but John just laughs.

"He's a lot like you, too," I say, amused. John nods.

"Why are you here? Isn't it dangerous?" Alex asks. I realize he's right; John shouldn't be here right now, no matter how much we want him to be.

"Yes, it is, but I had to risk it. There's some important information I have, and there's not a safe way to get it to you besides risking coming in person." He replies. "By the way, the bugs in you're house; I turned them off right before I came here. Safety precaution." He says, mimicking Alex.

"So what's the information?" I ask. If it's serious enough that he's risking his life to tell us, I know it's not good.

"Pythia's first target is the White House. They will be targeting it on September 11 at 9:47 am, the exact time Flight 77 crashed into the Pentagon. They will be using a helicopter. They will land on the White House roof and explode the helicopter. They don't care about how many people are killed; their goal is to show the world how dangerous and resourceful they are." John says. I let this sink in, and I feel a growing fear.

"The White House has maximum security though. How would they be able to land a helicopter on it and then get away, and be able to explode it?" Alex asks.

"It's a suicide bombing, just like the 9/11 attacks." John replies.

"Still, how will they be able to land the helicopter and set off the bomb before they get shot? There are lots of guards on the roof, right?" Alex asks. He has a point; there are snipers on the roof of the White House; they'll gun the man down before he'll be able to land the copter.

"I'm not sure about that part, but they seem confident that the guards won't be a problem. I have the helicopter's flight plan here. We need to find a way to stop it while it's in the air, because if we stop it before, someone else will just step in and do the job." He lays a satellite image of the area on the dinner table. We all sit down and examine it. There's a helipad sign that has been drawn over in marker; that's where they'll be starting. There's a black line drawn from the helipad to the White House. There's an empty space on the roof; John drew a helipad sign there. He points to it. "That's where they're going to be landing," he explains.

"Is this water?" Alex asks, pointing to what looks like a small lake.

"Yes, it's McMillan Reservoir. Why?" he asks. I notice that the helicopter will be flying over the reservoir Alex is pointing to. I start to catch on.

"You want to have the helicopter crash there, don't you?" I ask.

"Ideally, yes. How much explosives is the helicopter carrying?" he asks.

"Well, the helicopter is able to lift 2000 pounds, so I'd say at least 1,800 pounds of explosives. They want to make it as big as possible." He says.

"I don't think there's any other place we could make it crash without still causing damage," Alex says. I agree; the only other thing between the hanger and the White House are houses. Not a good idea to make it crash into them.

"So, how exactly do we get it out of the air?" I ask.

"Well…if we could get another brick of explosives on the helicopter; one that won't affect the weight, we could explode it once it's over the river. That would be quite dangerous though; they have the hanger where they keep the copter locked down pretty tight; armed guards 24/7." He says.

"So that option's out. Is there any vantage point where a sniper could be near the lake?" Alex asks.

"Well…the only ideal vantage point in that area is the hospital roof, but how would that help? You'd have to be a really good marksman to hit the helicopter pilot in the exact right spot. Plus, you'd have to have the right kind of gun. The windows are bulletproof. Even if he's wounded and can't fly the copter, he could fly it over the houses. You'd need to kill him instantly. He'll be wearing a bulletproof vest, just in case someone does try and shoot him. Plus, he'll have the helmet on. If you wanted to kill him, you'd have to hit him in the neck. That would be very hard to do," John says.

"I could do it," I say before I know what I'm doing. I could though. It's true. I once killed someone who was wearing a bulletproof vest; I shot the same hole in the vest three times and I was able to kill him. Of course he was wearing lightweight body armor; Pythia probably supplied the helicopter driver with a better quality vest.

"You could, but will you?" John asks.

"Is there any other option?" I reply. The look in his eyes says enough; this is the only option we have.

"Well, September 11 is 8 days away. We need to get ready. I…I don't think there's any other choice but to let Mrs. Jones know you're alive, John. I mean, we have passports and we could easily make it to the White House, but how do we get access to a sniper rifle, or explain or actions once the mission is complete? I don't think there's any other choice but to tell MI6 you're alive," I don't want to be saying these words, but it's true.

"I think you're right. It's time I get into contact with them again. Hopefully after this mission, all of Pythia's top agents will be identified and locked up." John replies.

"I think we should go to the Royal & General Bank right now; the sooner the better," I say. Alex and John both nod in agreement.

"Do you have a car? Mine is a two seated Jag," I tell him.

"Yeah, I have a car. It's the gray Ferrari you saw earlier. By the way, I was the one who suggested the Jag. I knew you've always wanted one," John says, smiling mysteriously. I smile back.

"Oh, John. Always so caring," I say. Despite the fact he was an assassin, he was very aware of people's emotions and what they wanted in life; he was always the most caring person I knew. We go out to the garage and get in the Jag while John gets in his Ferrari. When we get to the Royal & General Bank, the secretary calls Mrs. Jones. When she asks us who John is, I reply that he's just a friend and he has security clearance. The secretary seems hesitant, but she lets us go up. When we enter Mrs. Jones office, she's sitting at her desk with her hands clasps in front of her; waiting for us. John enters last, right behind Alex. He sees Mrs. Jones, and he can barely contain the smile that spreads across his face. I'm a bit surprised; did he really miss her that much?

Alex is surprised too, because when he sees John's expression, he says, "Are you old friends or something?"

"No, I'm just…glad to be back I suppose. I'm glad to see that Mrs. Jones is the new director; I heard about that, congratulations," he says, nodding at her.

"Yassen…Alex…who is this, exactly?" she asks, looking at us suspiciously. I realize that there's been a change in the room; there use to be separate chairs, but now there are chairs and a couch. Alex sits in the middle of the couch with John and me on either side of him. Alex glances at his father and smiles and John winks at him.

"Don't worry, I've gotcha covered." He says. "Mrs. Jones, you don't recognize me at all?" he says, looking at her curiously.

"No, I don't," she says, but she says it a bit too quickly; she's lying. She knows its John, she just won't accept it.

"It's me, John Rider," he says. She looks shocked, even though she suspected it was true.

"John…how did you survive the plane accident?" she asks.

"Accident? It wasn't an accident! Ash killed them…er…my mom at least," Alex exclaims. I place my hand gently on his shoulder to quiet him.

"I was severely wounded, but I survived somehow. I was at the front of the plane at the time; the bomb was placed at the back," he explains. It was still a miracle he survived, no matter where he was.

"So why have you two…three come here?" she asks.

"Well, John has been working with Pythia…he's a double agent, except he wasn't working for you…he was working for…well he was helping us and supplying us with information about Pythia and the next attack. He didn't want anything to connect him back with you; that's why he contacted us instead. We're sorry we had to lie to you about where we got the information, but it would have been dangerous to let you know he was alive. It still is, but we don't really have a choice anymore," I explain.

"And why is that exactly? What has he told you?" she asks. I can't tell what she's thinking; is she mad at us for lying? Or is she mad at John for not telling them he was alive?

"Well, the first attack will be at the White House. You know the date I believe; 9/11. A helicopter holding about 2000 pounds of C4 will be detonated on the White House roof at exactly 9:47 am. We have figured out how to stop it, but…I don't know…it's going to be hard," John says, glancing at me.

"The helicopter will be flying over McMillan Reservoir while on it's way to the White House; the helicopter will be bulletproof, and the pilot will be wearing a bulletproof vest, plus his helmet, but I believe that I can shoot him in the neck and kill him; it's the only option," I say.

"What about the guards on the White House roof? Can't they take care of it before he does anything?" Mrs. Jones asks, looking confused.

"Well, that's the only bit I didn't get any information about. They seem to think that the guards won't be a problem…they said that by the time the helicopter gets there, they will be "one more shot closer to heaven". I have no idea what that means. Maybe someone is going to shoot them? I don't know, but it doesn't matter. As long as the White House is secure; we could get them to a secure location, but I think that would tip Pythia off. It's better to just make sure the helicopter doesn't reach the White House; hopefully that will prevent whatever might happen to the guards from happening," John replies. Mrs. Jones nods in agreement.

"Yassen, are you sure you can do this? Are you sure you _want _to do this?" she asks, looking concerned. She knows neither Alex nor I ever wanted to get involved in this.

"Yes, I want to do this. If you'll allow me to, I will," I reply confidently.

"Well, then, we have a deadline of 8 days; you'll leave tomorrow morning at 8 o'clock. We'll get you're passport ready," she says.

"Wait! Passport? As in, singular? We're going too, aren't we?" Alex asks incredulously.

"Says the one who didn't want to do any of this in the first place," I say, giving him a wry smile.

"Yeah, well, it's too late to not do anything, so I might as well come along, right?" he says, looking slightly annoyed.

"No, actually, Alex, John, you're going to stay here. One person is enough. Three people would be too dangerous, especially for John; we'd have to make a fake passport, documents, everything. We'd have to write him a new identity, and he'd have to memorize it as a safety precaution. That would delay us by three days at the most. I want Yassen to be there well in advance, just in case," Mrs. Jones explains.

"All right, I suppose that makes sense. I'll help you pack," Alex says, sounding disappointed. "I suppose I'll have to stay with John while Yassen's away, right?" Alex brightens at this though. Mrs. Jones nods her head in agreement.

We leave the Royal & General bank and head home. John says goodbye to us before we leave the bank; he doesn't want to endanger us by coming home. He says he'll see me off and take Alex at the airport tomorrow. We go home, and for the first time in a long time, I fall asleep at around 9 o'clock; not even close to the time I usually fall asleep.

**And that's the end of this chapter. The next chapter will be the final chapter; I'm really excited about it!**


	7. Mission Accomplished

**Thank you so much for reading my story everyone! I'm sorry to say, unless I really drag this out more, this story will probably not be a 50K like I had hopped. Oh well.**

Chapter 7- Mission Accomplished

Alex, John and I are at the airport, saying our goodbyes. Mrs. Jones booked a room for me at the Four Seasons hotel; lucky me!

"Take care of him; he's a good kid," I tell John, looking at Alex with affection. He smiles at me.

"Stay safe," he reminds me, pointing a finger at me.

"Always," I respond, giving him a hug. "I'll be back in a week anyway; I have no idea what I'm going to do for 6 days while I wait for the deadline, besides plan of course," I say. I have a feeling I'm going to get lonely; Alex and I have been living with each other for such a long time; I don't know what I'll do without him around.

"It's good to see you again, Yassen. Don't get shot or anything," John says. He's smiling, but there's a tone of seriousness in his voice.

"I'll try not to," I say. I give him a hug. A voice comes over the loudspeaker, announcing that Flight 2 will be leaving in 20 minutes and boarding has started.

"That's my cue," I tell them. I say one final goodbye, and then I board my plane. As the plane taxies to the runway, I see Alex and John watching from inside the airport; John's arm is wrapped around Alex's shoulder. I'm not certain, but I think I see Alex whip his face like he's crying. The last thing I see before the plane turns away from the airport is them waving at me.

It's about 12 o'clock, and there are about 2 days until the deadline. We're as prepared as we'll ever be. Scorpia taught me that an assassination is 99% planning, 1% execution. After all the planning, the shooting part is almost an afterthought. I decide to call Alex and John and make sure they're prepared. Mrs. Jones set it up so that we'll be talking to each other through a Bluetooth phone. Alex, John, and Mrs. Jones will be watching the White House, plus me, from cameras they placed near those locations. They will also be listening to the Secret Service radios; they want to make sure nothing goes wrong. I wouldn't be surprised if Pythia had a backup plan in case they were compromised. Although with them throwing the information in our faces like they have been, I honestly wouldn't be surprised if they're getting a bit too confident for their own good.

I call the number that John gave me; he answers with a simple, "Hello?"

"Hi, how are you?" I ask.

"We've been good. Are you ready for tomorrow?" he asks.

"As ready as I'll ever be," I reply.

"Good. Now remember everything I taught you, Yassen. It will be important. Consider it a test of all the skills you've learned," he says. A test…John would do that wouldn't he? Test my skills after all these years. Well, in that case, challenge accepted. After this, I'm hoping that we can all get out of the spy business, for a while at least. Once you start down the path we're on, it's hard to get away from it; it gets harder as time progresses, too.

"Yeah, I'm hoping this is the last assassination I'm going to have to do. All I want to do after this is come back and spend time with you two. Alex is listening, right?" I assume he is. He would want to hear what I have to say.

"Of course he is," John replies.

"Hi!" Alex exclaims, sounding pleased. I laugh.

"Hello, Alex. It's good to hear your voice," I exclaim. "Is everything ready? Are the Bluetooth's working?" I ask after a moment.

"Yes they are, we tested them out yesterday," John replies.

"Good. It looks like we're all set then. Talk to you tomorrow," I say.

"All right. Talk to you tomorrow," John echoes.

"Love you!" Alex exclaims.

"I love you too, Alex," I reply. I hang up after they do. I get ready for bed, but as usual I can't fall asleep until around 2 in the morning. I can't help but be nervous for tomorrow. For the first time since I became an assassin, thoughts such as, "what if I fail?" pop into my head. Failure would mean innocent people getting killed. Failure would mean Pythia succeeding. And finally, failure would mean that John was in danger; Pythia would know that someone had tipped MI6 off. And that is why I cannot fail.

The next day, at 7 o'clock, I set up on the hospital roof. MI6 supplied me with a specialized Dragunov sniper rifle; the bullets are able to penetrate layered bulletproof glass with one shot. For this kind of job, the Dragunov is the best choice. The Bluetooth in my ear buzzes. I answer the call.

"I'm here," I say.

"Good. We have a visual of you and the White House roof," Mrs. Jones says.

"Yassen, it looks like you're a giant piece of tin foil," Alex comments. I'm wearing a reflective blanket over me so when the pilot goes over, he won't be able to look at me because it will be too bright. I'm sitting in the perfect position, with the sun bouncing right off the material.

"The helicopter should be leaving any moment now," I say, checking my watch. "Anything unusual happen at the White House?" I ask.

"All quiet on the Western Front," Alex replies. He's referring to a book written during World War II.

"Cute," I say after that last remark.

I hear the buzz of the helicopter in the distance; it's coming toward me.

"All right, here we go," I say. I make sure the reflective sheet I'm wearing covers me. I watch as the helicopter flies over my head; then I prepare to take the shot. I raise the gun slightly; I watch the helicopter through the specially made scope on the gun. I feel calmness overtake me; the calm before a storm. I block everything out but waiting for the perfect time to shoot. I feel my finger on the trigger. I concentrate my whole body on that finger. I pull the trigger back. I hear the muffled bang as the bullet is fired through the silencer. It's still quite loud, but the pilot is surrounded by the noise of the helicopter; he won't even know what hit him. I watch the single bullet pierce the window. The driver jerks forward slightly, and then slumps in his seat. The helicopter stalls out and falls down, landing in the reservoir with a big splash. Mission accomplished. Slowly, I become aware of reality again.

"Good shot. Well done, Yassen," Mrs. Jones praises.

"Thank you," I reply.

"Hold on…something's happening," Alex says.

"What? Where?" Mrs. Jones suddenly sounds tense.

"The White House. The guards on the roof…they all fell down at the same time," Alex says.

'"Code Red, code red. Alpha Team C is compromised. I repeat, Alpha Team C is compromised. Requesting backup immediately."' A man's voice says over the radio.

"Hold on. There are people on the roof now," Mrs. Jones says after a moment of silence.

'"They're dead. They're all dead. How the hell did this happen?"' someone says.

"One shot closer to heaven. S—t!" Alex curses angrily.

"What?" I say. I would tell him to watch his language, but that doesn't really matter right now.

"Invisible Sword," Alex replies.

"Uh, explanation?" John asks.

"Scorpia did this before. They used nanoshells with cyanide in them. They give someone a shot, the nanoshells, which are covered in a thin layer of gold, travel to the heart. When a radio wave is released, the gold breaks up and the people die," Alex explains briefly. "Now we know how they were so confident the roof would be clear," he says. He sounds really upset. "I should have seen this coming. I should have…" he trails off.

"Alex, it wasn't you're fault. No one knew about that part of their plan. It's lucky we found out about the part of their plan we found out about. It's lucky we got here in time to stop it. I'm sorry this happened, but you can't blame yourself. Blame Scorpia for inventing Invisible Sword," I suggest. I have no idea how else to try and comfort him.

"Yeah…I guess it is all Scorpia's fault," Alex says. He still sounds defeated, but he's not nearly as upset as he was before.

"Well, Yassen, you'll be home by tonight. While we're waiting for you, we'll try to get this situation at the White House cleared up. There are members of Pythia being taken into custody as we speak. Good work," Mrs. Jones says.

A few hours later, I'm on a plane back to Britain. Mrs. Jones, Alex, and John are waiting for me when I return. As soon as I step off the plane and into the airport, Alex races over and gives me a big hug.

"Hey, bud," I say, messing up his hair a little. I smile affectionately; he really missed me I guess.

"I'm glad you're back," he says as he pulls away from me.

"I'm glad to be back," I reply. I missed Alex and John a lot, even though I was only gone for 8 days.

"Well, everything was sorted out at the White House. The guards had been given shots; vitamins, the doctor said. Turns out he was working for Pythia; no surprise really. Everything besides that is good; the Pythia members are all locked up; there won't be a problem from them anymore." Mrs. Jones concludes. "Yassen, there's just one more thing," she says.

"What's that?" I ask.

"A few days ago, we got an alert on our computer. Someone is searching for you." she explains.

"Who is it? Do you know?" I ask. This is worrisome.

"No, we don't, but we will find out. As soon as we figure out whom, we'll stop them. You don't need to worry about it. I just wanted to let you know. You've all done a wonderful job. Goodbye, Alex, Yassen, John," she says. She looks slightly sad.

"You're sure this isn't something serious?" I ask.

"We'll handle it. Go back to living a normal life. Don't worry about it," she assures me. I nod. "That's good. Well, shall we go home?" I ask, looking at Alex and John.

"Yes, we should," Alex agrees happily. We drive home in John's car since that's the one we took to the airport. That night, Alex, John, and I sit on the couch and watch TV. We stay up till past midnight; Alex falls asleep and I put him to bed. John decides to go home shortly after.

"It's good to be back," he says as he's about to leave.

"It's good to have you back," I say.

"Did you cry, after you thought I was dead?" he asks. He looks at me with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"Yes, I did. You're the closest thing I ever had to a father,"

He nods. "Alex loves you so much; he had nightmares all the time you were gone. He kept dreaming you died somehow; he really doesn't want to lose you, Yassen,"

"I know. I don't want to lose him, or you, either," I say. "You know who tried to kill you, right?"

"Ash. Yeah, I know. After all those years…to have him betray me…and Alex's godfather, too." He gives a hollow laugh. "Its funny how at the same time I went back to MI6, he went over to Scorpia." He comments.

"Ironic, isn't it? How good people can turn bad because of one tragic event in their life?" he says. I nod, remembering how I had stabbed Ash in the stomach.

"Or how bad people can turn good, because of something special happening," I reply. That special something was Alex. He was the one who showed me that I couldn't keep living the life of an assassin; I had to get out. I got out, but only because of him.

"Thanks, Yassen," John says, holding out his hand toward me.

"For what?" I ask.

"For taking care of my son when I couldn't be there for him," he says. I take his hand and shake it. Then we hug, just like we use to when we were on missions for Scorpia.

For the first time in as long as I can remember, my whole body is relaxed. For once, it seems like everything is going to work out. Maybe, with enough luck, it will.

**That's the end of the story! The last chapter is very short, I admit, but I think ending it here is perfect! There will be a third book titled The Final Mission.**


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